Download Doryanthes AUGUST 2011

Volum e 4, Num ber 3, August 2011
Commemorating the 2500 years since t he
Battle of Marathon
The “Soros ” The Tum ulus of t he A t he nia ns a t Marat hon
The J ournal of History and Herit age
f or Southern Sydn ey
ISSN 183 5-9 81 7 (Print )
ISSN 1835- 982 5 (Online )
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1
Doryanthes
Exec. Editor: Les Bursill OAM
Doryanthes
.
The Gymea Lily (spec. Doryanthes excelsa ) From Greek “dory”: a spear and “anthos”: a flower, referring to the
spear- like flowering stems; excelsa : from Latin excelsus: elevated, high, referring to the tall flower spikes.
Go to www.doryanthes.info
Editorial Committee
Editorial Policy ;
Chair/Editor/Publisher: Les Bursill, OAM, BA
M.Litt UNE JP.
V/Chair: Garriock Duncan, BA(Hons) DipEd
Syd MA Macq GradDipEdStud NSW MEd
DipLangStud Syd.
Treasurer: Mary Jacobs, BEd Macq DipNat
Nutr AustCollNaturalTherapies.
Film Review Editor: Michael Cooke, BEc LaT
GradDipEd BA Melb MB VU.
Book Review Editor and Secretary: Adj. Prof.
Edward Duyker,
OAM, BA(Hons) LaT PhD
Melb FAHA FLS FRHistS JP.
Committee Members:
Sue Duyker, BEc BA(Asian Studies) ANU
BSc(Arch.) B Arch Syd.
Merle Kavanagh, DipFamHistStud
SocAustGenealogists AssDipLocAppHist UNE.
John Low, BA DipEd Syd DipLib CSU.
Index of Articles
Page
Number
Editorial – Garriock Duncan
3
McLeod Award Notes
4
Gleanings - Sue Duyker
5
The Soros at MarathonGarriock Duncan
7
1. All views expressed are those of the
individual authors.
2. It is the Policy of this Journal that material
published will meet the requirements of the
Editorial Committee for content and style.
3. Appeals concerning non-publication will be
considered. However decisions of the
Editorial Committee will be final.
Les Bursill OAM on behalf of the Editorial
Committee
Index of Articles
Page
Number
Cornelius Nepos: Life of Miltiades
Translated with an historical commentary -
23
Garriock Duncan
A Marathon Effort.
An Australian at the first Modern Olympics-
33
Merle Kavanagh
The First Marathon Race- Garriock Duncan 36
Marathon, Salamis and
Plataea- Garriock Duncan
Those Who Dare to Remain
In Place: Hoplite Warfare—the
Evidence from the Nicholson
Museum - Pamela Chauvel
10
Scattered Seeds - Garriock Duncan
37
Book Reviews. Richard A. Billows, Marathon –
15
Professor Edward Duyker
42
Film Reviews The 300 Spartans and 300 –
Michael Cooke
45
The articles published herein are copyright © and may not be reproduced without permission of the author.
ISSN 1835-9817 (Print) - ISSN 1835-9825 (Online)
The publishers of this Journal known as “Doryanthes” are Leslie Bursill and Mary Jacobs trading as
“Dharawal Publishers Inc. 2009”
The business address of this publication is 10 Porter Road Engadine NSW, 2233.
[email protected] www.doryanthes.info
2
Editorial –
The Ritchie Memorial Lecture for 2010, delivered at Sydney University, and entitled
Marathon and the Persian Wars in the Imagination of the Greeks, was given by
Prof. John Marincola of Florida State University. In the preamble to his lecture,
Prof. Marincola identified 2011 as the 2500th anniversary of the Battle of Marathon
(see: www.danaxtell.com/marathonanniversary). A quick mathematical exercise
seems to indicate that 2011 is the 2501st anniversary. Reader, do not despair. The
fault is not yours but that of Dionysius Exiguus, the man responsible for our dating
system (see: R J Gould, Questioning the Millennium, 1997).
This edition of Doryanthes is the result of Prof. Marincola’s remark. Our original
intention was for the entire edition to concern aspects of the Battle. That proved
overly ambitious; it is now more accurate to say that this edition is inspired by the
Battle of Marathon. The Table of Contents will reveal an eclectic mix of topics
(including our regular features). We welcome a new contributor, Pamela Chauvel.
Pamela works in educational programs at the Nicholson Museum (Usyd). She has
written an article hoplite warfare, based on material in the Museum. Two other
articles deserve mention: the first is the translation and commentary on Cornelius
Nepos, Life of Miltiades. As far as we can ascertain, this is the 1st English
translation since the Loeb Classical Library edition of 1929; secondly, the article by
Merle Kavanagh, linking the Battle, the modern Olympic Games and Australia’s first
Olympic medallist.
How decisive was the Battle? It does not rate a mention in any Persian source, just
another minor engagement on the edge of empire. However, for armchair warriors
of Victorian England, the Battle was a seminal event in world history, or that is how
Sir Edward Creasy (The Fifteen Decisive Battles of the World from Marathon to
Waterloo, 1851: (http://onlinebooks.library.upenn.edu/webbin/gutbook/lookup?num=4061) saw
it. Creasy’s argument is, today, somewhat muted by the fact that he wrote before
even the Crimean War, let alone the two World Wars or the wars of decolonialism
since the end of World War II. As is often stated, the true decisive outcome of
Marathon was the Battle of Salamis in 480 BC.
The Committee of Doryanthes would like to take this opportunity to make two
announcements. The first is very close to home. Regular readers would recognise
the name, Marika Low. Marika, the daughter of Committee Member, John Low, has
been our intermittent correspondent on topics relating to classical archaeology.
Earlier this year, Marika graduated from Sydney University with the degree of B.A.,
with 1st class honours in Archaeology. Marika is currently plying her trade as a
practitioner of Australian Archaeology in the Pilbara region, WA.
Secondly, the publication of this edition of Doryanthes has been generously
supported by a grant from the Classical Association of NSW, under the terms of
The Ian McLeod Award Program, 2011.
Garriock Duncan
3
The Ian McLeod Award for the Promotion of Classical
Studies (2011)
The chief object of the Classical Association New South Wales Inc. is to promote
the development of classical studies in New South Wales. The Association was
founded in 1909 and conducts a range of activities, including lectures, social
functions, workshops and a Latin and Greek reading competition for school
students. It sponsors the annual Sydney Latin Summer School and is the cosponsor of the journal Classicum. The Association has close links with similar
bodies in other states. For more information, see:
http://classics.org.au/cansw/index.html.
In 2011, the Classical Association of New South Wales established the annual Ian
McLeod Award to be first awarded in 2011. The Award will be granted to support a
project which will promote in New South Wales the study of the culture of the
ancient Mediterranean (before AD 700). The award is to give public recognition to
the efforts of Ian McLeod, longtime Hon. Secretary of CANSW, and, for many
years, Director of the Latin Summer School at the University of Sydney (both
positions till 2009).
The award will, in future, be awarded in the November of each year for a project to
be completed in the following year. Funds will be awarded on a competitive basis,
and the right to make no award on any occasion is reserved. The decision on
which application or applications to approve will be made by a subcommittee of the
Council of CANSW, consisting of the President or nominee, the Secretary, the
Treasurer and one other Council member.
Within the overall context of promoting these objects, the Ian McLeod Award will be
given to a project which in the judgment (and the absolute discretion) of the
subcommittee either promotes classical studies via the press or electronic media,
or promotes and advances classical studies in schools (at any level or all levels
from Kindergarten to Year 12), or promotes and advances classical studies in adult
and community education.
Doryanthes’ Project Submission:
We are a community based magazine published quarterly since November (2008). It has a
small print run of 35 copies (distributed mainly to institutional libraries) with an on-line
mail out of 800+ copies. Past editions can be viewed at: www.doryanthes.info and click on
archive), The magazine is not specifically a classical studies magazine but has increasingly
published articles of classical interest.
Funding is sought for the publication in August, 2011, of a commemorative edition devoted
to the Battle of Marathon. We seek a sum of $900 to publish an additional 100 print copies
for distribution to local high schools.
Our submission was approved on May 2, 2011.
4
Gleanings
With Sue Duyker
Gleanings from the Ancient World (August 2011)
The Etruscans: A Classical Fantasy?
From 6 July 2011, Nicholson Museum, University of Sydney, southern entrance to the Quadrangle,
Manning Rd, Camperdown
In popular imagination the Etruscans are the very stuff of fantasy, myth and legend. Who are they, where did
they come from, what does their language mean? In reality, although wiped out or assimilated by Rome, they
have left us an extraordinarily rich heritage of art, jewellery, metal working, terracotta sculpture, urban
planning, walls, and roads. Indeed, in the 6th century BC, the Etruscans were the most powerful people in
the Mediterranean. ??So what went wrong?
www.sydney.edu.au/museums/events_exhibitions/nicholson_exhibitions.shtml
Image: Details of a wall painting from the Tomb of the Leopards, Tarquinia, 5th century BC.
The Philo and the Jewish Community at Alexandria
07:05pm, Tuesday 6 September 2011, Macquarie University, W6A308
In conjunction with Sir Asher Joel Foundation, Professor Sarah Pearce (University of Southampton): The
Philo and the Jewish Community at Alexandria. Professor Pearce is brought to Australia courtesy of ANU.
For information contact [email protected]
Higher School Certificate Study Days for Greek & Roman Topics
Saturday 17 September 2011, Macquarie University
Greek & Roman Topics for the HSC.
For information contact Macquarie Ancient History Association (MAHA)
[email protected]
5
Diolkos for 1500 Years
The Diolkos was a paved trackway which enabled boats to be moved overland across the Isthmus of
Corinth. The shortcut allowed vessels to avoid the long dangerous sea route around the Peloponnese
peninsula.
The main function of the Diolkos was the transfer of goods, although in times of war it also became a
preferred means of speeding up naval campaigns. It operated from circa 600 BC until the middle of the 1st
century AD. The scale on which the Diolkos combined the two principles of the railway and the overland
transport of ships was unique in antiquity.
Photos of the remains of the Diolkos and details of the campaign to save this ancient monument are here:
www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.427804384101.226818.660439101&l=3d11aff07f
“Diolkos for 1500 Years” is an animated documentary short depicting the transport of a small 4th century BC
merchant vessel over the ancient diolkos portage road. The film was initiated by the Society of Ancient
Greek Technology, produced by the Technical Chamber of Greece, and directed by T.P. Tassios, N. Mikas,
and G. Polyzos. It is available on YouTube in Greek and English versions. See the link, below.
corinthianmatters.com/the-isthmus/the-diolkos/diolkos-links-and-videos/
Marathon Commemorative Coin, Australia
The Perth Mint has marked the 2500th anniversary of the Battle of Marathon with the issue of a
silvercommemorative coin.
www.perthmint.com.au/catalogue/pheidippidis-marathon-run-2500th-anniversary-490bc-2010-1oz-silverproof-coin.aspx
Finally, take advantage of the high Australian Dollar with this tempting event:
Athens Classic Marathon 2011
Sunday 13 November 2011, starting at 9:00am
The Athens Classic Marathon takes place on the reputed route where the agile Pheidippides ran with news
of the victory of the Greeks over the Persians. The young man ran the 42 km from the battlefield to the
capital as fast as he could, announced his joyous message, and died.
The course of the Athens Classic Marathon gives you the possibility to challenge yourself and be part of
history at the same time. For runners who wish to experience history but don’t fancy a 42km run in hilly
Attica, the Athens Classic Marathon also features a 5km and a 10km run starting and finishing at the stadium
in Athens.
Registration www.athensclassicmarathon.gr/marathon/fmain.aspx
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The Soros at Marathon
Garriock Duncan
Regular readers of Doryanthes will notice a change in our front cover. For this edition, the
image of the doryanthes has been rested and instead, readers will see a photo of the
Soros at Marathon. As used by Herodotus (1.68.2, 2.78) 1, soros has the meaning, coffin. 2
This meaning, according to my modern Greek correspondent, is retained to this day.
However, when driving into Marathon, do not look for a sign pointing to the Soros of
Marathon. For modern Greek uses tymbros to denote the mound. So, look for the
Tymbros of Marathon. Tymbros (LSJ, q.v., p. 1834a) is another classical Greek survivor
and is probably a more precise term, since its standard English meaning is burial mound
or tomb (see: Hdt, 1.45.3).
Greek hoplite warfare was a stylised experience and once the battle was over (the
defeated having acknowledged their defeat), the tidying up o f the battlefield took place. 3
This, of course, mainly meant dealing with the victims of both sides. The enemy dead
would receive little attention. At Marathon, the Persian dead were left unburied for several
days, since the late arriving Spartans were able to view the Medes (Hdt., 6.129).
Eventually, the bodies were tossed into a nearby ditch, the location being lost till 1884/5.4
The Athenians were unable to savour their victory long. The Persians appear to have had
a back up plan. For they sailed to Athens in the hope of effecting a landing at Phaleron
before the Athenian force could return (Hdt., 6. 115). Miltiades force marched nine of the
ten tribal regiments back to Athens to oppose the likely Persian landing (Hdt., 6.116.1) The
tenth, under the command of Aristides was left to guard the battlefield (Plutarch [Plut.].,
Aristides, 5 [pp. 114-115]).5
Thucydides, in his introduction to the funeral speech of Pericles (2.35-2.46) describes the
usual method, by which Athens buried her military dead (2.34). 6 As outlined by
Thucydides, the bodies were brought back to Athens for burial. There was a signal
exception - those, who fell at Marathon: for their singular and extraordinary valour [they]
were interred on the spot where they fell (2.34.5). No doubt, this service was carried out
by Aristides and the regiment of the Antiochis tribe. They buried the dead and raised a
temporary trophy to the victory. 7
Today, the burial site is crowned by the soros. 8 When the mound was raised is a matter of
debate.9 However, Pausanias does add some additional information - the mound was
surmounted by stelai , inscribed with the names of the dead, arranged by tribe (2.32.3).
1
References to Herodotus (henceforth cited as Hdt) are to: The Landmark Herodotus, ed. R B Strassler, Pantheon
Books, New York, 2007.
2
H G Liddell & R Scott, A Greek-English Lexicon, 9ed., rev. H S Jones, OUP, 1940 (henceforth cited as LSJ), q.v., p.
1621a.
3
V D Hanson, The Western Way of War, Hodder & Stoughton, 1989, pp. 197-209.
4
See: B Petrakos, Marathon, The Archaeological Society at Athens, 1996, pp. 24-25. Some 640 years after the battle,
when he visited the site, Pausanias was unable to locate the grave of the Persians (1.32.4). References to Pausanias are
to: Pausanias, Guide to Greece 1: Central Greece, Penguin Classics, 1971.
5
All references to Plutarch are to: Plutarch, The Rise and Fall of Athens, Penguin Classics, 1960.
6
References to Thucydides are to: The Landmark Thucydides, ed. R B Strassler. Free Press, 1996
7
Petrakos, op. cit., pp. 26-27. Eventually, a memorial of white marble would be erected (Pausanias1.32.4).
8
Petrakos, op. cit., pp. 18-21.
7
No doubt, the disgrace of Miltiades in 489 (Hdt., 6.135; Nepos, Miltiades, 7) had an
adverse effect on the renown of Marathon. However, there would be other memorials to
the battle. These result from a concerted program of Cimon’s to assert the glory of
Marathon and, hence, rehabilitate the reputation of his father, Miltiades.10 There were
helmet dedications in the Athenian Treasury at Delphi 11; the Marathon base built against
the Athenian Treasury12; the inclusion of a statue of Mitliades in the monument of the
Eponymous Heroes in the Agora at Athens (Pausanias, 10.10.1)13; the great Marathon
painting in the Stoa Poikile in the Agora (Pausanias, 1.15.3)14; and the south frieze of the
temple of Athena Nike on the Acropolis, 15
However, there is another very evocative memorial to Athens. The great Athenian
tragedian, Aeschylus, fought in both Marathon and Salamis. Yet his great historical
tragedy on the Persian Wars, The Persians, is not about Marathon but Salamis. 16 Indeed,
it is possible that the first Greek ship to ram an enemy vessel at Salamis was that of
Aeschylus’ brother, Ameinias. 17 Yet when Aeschylus, reportedly, came to write his own
epitaph, the only thing he chose to mention of his life was his presence at Marathon. 18
This tomb in wheat-bearing Gela covers the dead Aeschylus, [son] of Euphorion,
from Athens; the grove of Marathon can vouch for his famed valour, and the longhaired Mede who knew it well. 19
Indeed, the site at Marathon retained such a special magic that it was still obvious when
Pausanias visited some six hundred years after the battle:
The country district of Marathon, halfway between Athens and Carystus in
Euboea, is where the barbarians landed in Attica, were beaten in battle, and lost
some ships as they retreated. The grave on the plain is that of the Athenians;
there are stones on it carved with the names of the dead in their tribes. The
other grave is that of the Plataeans, Boeotians, and slaves: this was the first
battle in which slaves fought.
One man, Miltiades, has a private memorial; he died later after failing at Paros
and standing trial at Athens. Here every night you can hear the noise of
whinnying horses and of men fighting. It has never done a man good to wait
there and observe this closely, but if it happens against a man’s will the anger
9
P Krentz ( The Battle of Marathon, Yale UP, 2010, p. 170) argues that the mound was raised quite soon after the
battle, basing his decision on the date of pottery found in the mound.
10
See: S Hornblower, The Greek World, 479-323 BC, 4ed, Routledge, 2011, pp. 18-19.
11
R B Strassler, ed., The Landmark Herodotus, Pantheon Books, New York, 2007, fig. 6.117a (p, 476).
12
For the text, see: C Fornara, Archaic Times to the End of the Peloponnesian War, John Hopkins UP, 1977, no. 50
(pp. 49-50). For the treasury, see: M Andronicos, Delphi, Ekdotike Athenon, 2002, pp. 24, 25, 26.
13
On the monument, see: The Athenian Agora, American School of Classical Studies at Athens, 1976, pp. 69, 70-72.
14
On the Stoa Pokile (the Painted Stoa), see: J Camp, The Athenian Agora, Thames and Hudson, 1986, pp. 69-71; and
The Athenian Agora, pp. 102-103.
15
J Hurwitt, The Acropolis in the Age of Pericles, CUP, 2004, p. 86, and. figs. 74-75 (p.85)
16
On the play, see: T W Hillard, “Aeschylus' Persae as Theatre”, Ancient History, 20(1), 1990, pp.6-15. For
the text with commentary, see: H D Broadhead, The Persae of Aeschylus, CUP, 1960, and translation and
commentary: A J Podlecki, Aeschylus, The Persans, Bristol Classical Press, 1991.
17
This identification is not certain. See: Podlecki, op. cit., n. 9 (p. 120).
18
Another brother, Cynegeiros, was killed At Marathon in the melee round the Persian ships (Hdt., 6.114).
19
The translation is Petrakos’ (op. cit., p. 46). Also, see: R A Billow, Marathon, Overlook / Duckworth, 2010, pp. 3435.
8
of the demonic spirits will not follow him. The people of Marathon worship as
heroes those killed in the battle (1.32.3-4).
In a little under four years will occur the100th anniversary of the Gallipoli landing. We, in
Australia, have, in a way, copied the Athenians. They, too, so impressed by the
achievenment. coined a special word to describe those, who fought at Marathon,
Marathonomaches, (lit. “the fighter of/at Marathon”).20 The word acquired iconic status.
Aristophanes’ usage indicates its currency, 21 Though by the time of Aristophanes any
surviving Marathon fighters would have been very elderly gentleman, even by our
standards let alone those of the Athenians.. By the time Pausanias arrived at Marathon,
the celebrations of the victory were entering their seventh century. I wonder how Australia
will still be celebrating the Gallipoli landing in another six hundred years.
In a speech given in Sparta in 432/1 prior to the outbreak of the Peloponnesian War,
some Athenian envoys describe the contribution of Athens to Greek victory in the Persian
Wars. The envoys are keen to get across to the Spartans the extent of the Athenian
contribution to the final victory over the Persians, though somewhat expectedly the envoys
concentrate on Salamis rather than Plataea. In this context, there is not much scope to
dwell on Marathon. However, in their preamble, as it were, to their comments on Salamis,
there is a brief comment on Marathon—brief but significant:
We need not refer to remote antiquity…But to the Persian wars and the
contemporary history we must refer…We assert that at Marathon, we were in
the forefront of dange r and faced the barbarian by ourselves (Thuc.,
1.73.2, 4).
Marathon was never a Greek victory, it was always an Athenian victory. Today, the only
monument to that victory, virtually intact, easily accessible and open to all, is the Soros at
Marathon.
The Tymbros at Marathon
20
LSJ, q.v., p. 1080b. Interestingly, it seems that those Athenians, who fought at Salamis, were not deemed worthy of
a similar honour. There is no word, Salaminomaches. At least, LSJ does not list one (see p. 1581b).
21
Billows, op. cit., pp. 35-37; Krentz, op. cit., p. 177; Petrakos, op. cit., n. 56 (p. 187).
9
Marathon, Salamis and Plataea—a Survey of
the Period, 490-479.
Garriock Duncan
The purpose of this edition of Doryanthes is to commemorate the 2500th anniversary of the
Battle of Maratho n. However battles do not occur in isolation but must be seen in context.
So, the purpose of this introductory article is to sketch that context. I must supply a
caveat, however. Though in honour of Marathon, this edition of Doryanthes will contain no
detailed account of the battle.22
In my title, I omit the Battle of Thermopylae. While Thermopylae is, of course, a stirring
example of courage and duty in the face of overwhelming odds, the battle had no lasting
geo-political significance.23 Contrast this with the Battle of Salamis. Athens’ victory at
Salamis (in 48024) triggered off an explosion of creativity for the next fifty years—as
recorded in the Pentakontaetia of Thucydides25. Most of what you, readers, know of
Ancient Greece probably happened in this fifty year period. It spawned drama, history,
democracy and the Acropolis complex, with the
Parthenon as its centre piece.26
We are told we live in one of those seminal points
in history, when vast historical forces collide, i.e. a
“Clash of Civilizations”, the outcome of which will
determine the course of future history. 27
Unfortunately, since we are living through the
clash, we lack the appropriate detachment to
pronounce on the validity of the claim. However,
such clashes have occurred previously. One
such clash was the succession of the wars
between the Persians and the various Greek states in the 5 th and 4 th centuries. This
period of conflict ended only with the decisive defeat of the Persian King, Darius III, at the
Battle of Gaugamela in 331, or perhaps with the death of Alexander the Great in 323.28
The Persian Empire began in c. 550, when Cyrus, a Persian prince, rebelled against his
Median overlord, Astyages (Herodotus [Hdt.], 1.123-130).29 The Persian Empire was an
expansive one and came i nto contact with the Greeks, when Cyrus overwhelmed the
22
For readers, who wish to know more, I have supplied extensive notes. The works cited therein range from
the popular to the scholarly. Additionally within the text, I have supplied references to the major ancient
authorities.
23
The battle did spawn the execrable film, 300. For a review, see: P Byrnes, “In the name of freedom”, Arts
and Entertainment, p. 15, in The Sydney Morning Herald. Weekend Edition, April 6-8, 2007.
24
All dates are BC.
25
Thucydides [Thuc.], 1.89-118. References to Thucydides are to: The Landmark Thucydides, ed. R B
Strassler. Free Press, 1996. For a convenient text (with commentary), see: A French, ed., The Athenian Half
Century, Sydney UP, 1971.
26
See the comment by Burn: A R Burn, Pericles and Athens, English Universities Pres, 1948, p. 114.
27
See: S P Huntingdon, The Clash of Civilizations and the Remaking of the World Order, Simon & Schuster,
1966. For a historical survey of clashes, see: A Pagden, Worlds at War, Random House, 2008.
28
Eg: J Cassin-Scott, The Greek and Persian Wars, 500-323 BC, Men-at -Arms Series, Osprey, 1977.
29
References to Herodotus are to: The Landmark Herodotus, ed. R B Strassler, Pantheon Books, New York,
2007) History calls Cyrus, Cyrus the Great, and he is probably better known from his appearance in the Old
Testament. See: T A Bryant, ed., The New Compact Bible Dictionary, Zondervan Publishing House, 1967,
“Cyrus”, q.v., p.p. 121b-122b; J M Court, ed., Dictionary of the Bible, Penguin, 2007, “Cyrus”, q.v., pp. 65-66.
10
Lydian Empire of Croesus (Hdt., 1.77-79.2-3). The Persians were content to exercise a
loose control over their subject. The next stage in the narrative came with the emergence
of Darius.30 The precise nature of Darius’ links with the previous dynasty is unknown.31
However, Darius claimed
descent from Achaemenes,
the legendary progenitor of
the Persian royal family (Hdt.,
1.125.2). By the end of the 6 th
century, the Persians had
crossed over into Europe and
established a foothold in
Thrace (Hdt., 4.96, 118).
Behind this frontier, in Ionia,
the Persians had appointed
absolute rulers to exercise
control over the Greek
subjects of the Empire.32
Several of these rulers had
been entrusted to guard the
bridge across the Hellespont,
by which Darius’ forces had
Hoplite Phalanx and below the Persian Enemy
crossed over into Europe.
One of them, Histaeus (Hdt.,
5.32.2-4), had ambitions of
the tyranny of Naxos. His
plans seem to have been
exposed and in an attempt to
evade punishment, he
persuaded his son-in-law,
Aristagoras (Hdt., 5.35-36) to
rebel against the Persians.
This revolt is better known as
the Ionian Revolt. 33 Athens
and Eretria, on the island of
Euboea, unwisely become
involved in this revolt of
Persia’s Greek subject (Hdt.,
5.99). The high point of the
revolt was the attack on
Sardis, the Persian administrative centre for the region. The lower town, but not the
citadel was captured. However, the temple of the Great Mother (Cybele) was accidentally
burnt to the ground (Hdt., 5.101-102). The Greeks would come to rue this accident.
Thereafter, Athens and Eretria withdrew from the revolt. The Greeks were finally defeated
at the Battle of Lade in the harbour of Miletus, in 494 (Hdt., 6.14-18).
30
Darius also rates a mention in the Old Testament. (Bryant [n.8], “Darius ”, q.v. 2, , p. 126b).
See: Hdt., 3.70, 71-73, 76-79, 85-87.
32
The correct term for these rulers is “tyrants”. However, the word does not yet have the pejorative sense
acquired later (A Andrewes, The Greek Tyrants, Hutchinsons University Library, 1974, pp. 20-30). The term
was first applied to the Lydian ruler, Gyges. (Hdt.,1.8-14; Andrewes, op. cit, n. 10, p. 155). See, also: C W
Fornara, ed., Archaic Times to the End of the Peloponnesian War, John Hopkins UP, 1977, n. 8 (p. 11).
33
A R Burn, The Pelican History of Greece, Penguin, 1965, pp. 157-158; N G L Hammond, History of Greece
to 323 BC, OUP, 1959, pp. 204-207.
31
11
After the suppression of the revolt in 494, the Persian King, Darius planned a revenge
attack on Athens and Eretria (Hdt., 5.105, 6.94). His initial attempt, in 492, ended in
disaster on the northern Greek coast near Mt. Athos (Hdt., 6.44.2-3). A second attempt,
two years later, saw the Persians landing on the northern coast of Attica at Marathon. The
Persians had the advantage of local knowledge. Hippias, the last Pisitratid tyrant of
Athens, was accompanying them (Hdt., 6.102, 107). It was on his advice that Marathon
was chosen. Hippias’ father, Pisistratus, had landed there at the beginning of his last and
successful attempt to become tyrant of Athens.34
The Athenians sought help from the Spartans but this was not forthcoming because of the
Spartans’ religious scruples. The only assistance, the Athenians would receive, was a
force of 1000 hoplites from Plataea. A hoplite force, under the overall command of
Callimachus, the Archon Polemarch, marched north to confront the Persians. There were
several days of inactivity and discussion on the part of the Athenians, As the Persians
were about to withdraw and crucially, it seems, after the Persian cavalry had already reembarked, the Athenians, on the day under the command of Miltiades, one of the new
tribal generals (strategoi), attacked (Hdt., 6.104-111). A feature of the battle was the
hoplite charge at the run against the Persian ranks, no doubt to minimize the danger
afforded by the Persian archers (Hdt., 6.112). 35 The Athenians shattered Darius’ ambition
(Hdt., 6.113-114.36 A subsequent attempt by the Persians to attack Athens from the sea
was thwarted when Miltiades led nine of the ten regiments on a forced march back to
Athens (Hdt., 6.116). The tenth, under the command of Aristides was left to guard the
battlefield (Plutarch [Plut.]., Aristides, 5 [pp. 114-115]).37
It would be ten years before the Persians, now ruled by Darius’ son, Xerxes, would return..
However, during that ten year period, the Athenians had made a truly bold decision to
forego the pretence of being a land power, probably because of Sparta’s dominance in
that area, and to become a sea power. In 483, an unexpected financial windfall was
spent not on enlarging the hoplite force but instead on a significant expansions of Athens’
naval resources (Hdt., 7.143-144).38 The stage had been set for the battle of Salamis.
In 480, Xerxes returned to demand the submission of all mainland Greece. In a rare
display of unity, the major Greek states met in congress at Corinth to form a military
alliance, the pan- Hellenic League, the command being entrusted to Sparta, to reject the
Persian demand (Hdt., 7.172). 39 Xerxes’ invasion began in 480. A combined land and
sea invasion force moved into Greece from Persian controlled territory to the north of
Greece. The first major Greek opposition was at Thermopylae (Hdt., 7.200-239). 40
34
On the Pisistratid tyranny, see: Andrewes (n. 10), pp. 100-115; W G Forrest, The Emergence of Greek
Democracy, Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1966, pp. 175-189; J D Smith, Athens under the Tyrants, Bristol
Classical Press, 1989.
35
Krentz disputes this. He argues that the charge was to negate the influence of Persian cavalry, i.e the
Persian cavalry had not yet re-embarked (P Krentz, The Battle of Marathon, Yale UP, 2010, pp. 143-152)
36
R A Billows, Marathon, Overlook Duckworth, 2010; Krentz, (n. 35); A Lloyd, Marathon, Souvenir Press,
2004; N Sekunda, Marathon, 490 BC, Osprey, 2002. Books on Marathon often have highly emotive
subtitles: Billows, “How one Battle Changed Western Civilization”; Lloyd, “the story of civilizations on (a)
collision course. This is not exclusive to Marathon; cf. the subtitle of Strauss (B Strauss, The Battle of
Salamis, Simon & Schuster, 2004), “the naval encounter that saved Greece—and western civilization”.
37
All references to Plutarch are to: Plutarch, The Rise and Fall of Athens, Penguin Classics, 1960.
38
Also Aristotle, Constitution of Athens, 22.7 (Penguin Classics, 1984); Plut., Themistocles, 4 (p. 80). See: J
Hale, Lords of the Sea, Penguin, 2009, pp. 12-14.
39
The Greeks may not have been united as imagined. See my article, “Greek Disunity in the Persian Wars”,
Teaching History, 27(3), 1993, pp. 9-10.
40
E Bradford, Thermopylae, MacMillan, 1980; P Cartledge, Thermopylae, Pan, 2006; R Matthews, The
Battle of Thermopylae, The History Press, 2006.
12
A scratch force from several Greek states barred the Persian advance along the narrow
coastal plain. After days of skirmishing and a minor naval engagement at nearby
Artemisium (Hdt 8.1 -11, 14-18) 41, the Persians were able to turn the Greek position. A
small rearguard, composed principally of Spartans, held the pass to the last man to enable
the majority of the Greek force to escape.
The Spartans wished to abandon all of Greece
north of the Isthmus of Corinth, but meanwhile
the combined Greek fleet had taken up
positions around the island of Salamis The
Spartan admiral, Eurybiades, was no match for
the guile of the commander of the Athenian
contingent, Themistocles. Themistocles was
able to convince the Persians to attack the
combined Greek fleet, on terms favourable to
the Greeks. The resulting Greek victory at
Salamis was so decisive that Xerxes
immediately returned to Persia after the battle
(Hdt., 8.40-122).42 The Persian army was left to
retire north without the support of Persian naval
forces.
The next year, 479, the Persian army was
brought to bay near the Boeotian town of
Plataea (Hdt., 9.19-20). 43 For once, the
Spartans did not have any religious festivals to
attend to and were able to field their full force.
The resulting battle was a total victory for the
Greeks. However, the unity which had
prevailed over the Persians at Plataea quickly
began to fragment and future battle lines began
to emerge. Since Salamis, the Greek naval
forces, now under the practical command of
Athens, had pursued the retreating remnants of
the Persian navy across the Ionian sea and
utterly destroyed them at the Battle of Mycale
(Hdt., 9.90-107). This Greek victory at Mycale
decisively tipped the balance of power in the
favour of the Greeks.
The Serpent Column – the
symbol of Greek Unity
After Mycale, all pretence of Greek unity was
abandoned and Athens assumed control of the
now naval war against the Persians. Sporadic
fighting (principally the Battle of the Eurymedon River in 469 (Thucydides [Thuc.],
1.100.1) 44 and the expedition to Egypt in 459 (Thuc., 1.104.1, 110) 45 between the Delian
41
Hale, op.cit., pp. 45-51.
H D Broadhead, The Persae of Aeschylus, CUP, 1960, pp. 322-339;Hale (n. 14), pp. 55-71; V D Hanson,
Why the West has Won, Faber & Faber, 2001, pp. 27-59; R Nelson, The Battle of Salamis, William
Lumbscombe, 1975; Strauss, n. 15; W Shepherd, Salamis, 480 BC, Campaign Series, Osprey Publishing,
2010.
43
T Lendvai, “The Battle of Plataea, Pt. 1”, Teaching History, 37(3), 2003, 4-14; ibid, “The Battle of Plataea,
Pt. 2”, Teaching History, 37(4), 2003, 56-61.
44
Hale (n. 17). 92-94.
45
V Ehrenberg, From Solon to Socrates, Methuen, 1973, 214; Hale (n. 17), pp. 99-103, 107-108; S
Hornblower, The Greek World, 479-323 BC, Methuen, 1983, pp, 40-42.
42
13
League and the Persians continued for a number of years. This active phase of the Greek
and Persian Wars was finally concluded by the Peace of Callias in c.449.46 Any future
conflict between Greek and Persian would take place in Persian territory. 47 Gradually that
rift developed between the two former allies, Athens and Sparta, which Thucydides
recognized as the true cause of the Peloponnesian War, 431-404 (Thuc., 1.23.6).48
Astute readers will have noticed that I have gone well beyond my remit, beyond 479.
There are a number of dates used to mark the end of the Persian Wars. 49 However, the
traditional way of dividing Greek history into specific historical episodes chooses 479 as
the dividing point between the Persian Wars and the next phase of Greek History. 50
However, the date is not some modern intrusion. In fact, it was chosen by Herodotus.
Herodotus was not a contemporary writer. He was writing some forty years later than the
events he described. With the benefit of hindsight, he was able to appreciate a
significant change had occurred in Greek history. 51The Hellenic League had been formed
to fight for the freedom of the Greeks. The Hellenic League had collapsed in 479. The
Spartans withdrew and Athens acquired control of what would become the Delian League,
i.e. the alliance of Athens and her allies. What once had fought to free the Greeks, now
became the instrument of their enslavement (cf. Thuc., 6.76.3). Herodotus wisely chose
to cease his enquiries at 479. Henceforth, the dominant issue of Greek history is the
expansionist policies of Athens, with their impact upon the interpretation of Greece’s
history, whether it be previous or current. 52
The Stoa in the Agora at Miletus
46
See: Ehrenberg op.cit., n. 74, pp. 445-446; Hale op.cit., pp. 108-109; G M de St Croix, The Origins of the
Peloponnesian War, Duckworth, 1972, pp. 310-314.
47
Thereafter, Persian involvement in Greek affairs was diplomatic and financial not military. Determined
military conflict between the Greeks and the Persians did not begin again until the rise of the Macedonian
th
kingdom in the mid 4 century B.C.
48
See: D Kagan, The Outbreak of the Peloponnesian War, Cornell UP, 1969; de St. Croix (n. 25).
49
See Cassin-Scott, op.cit. and: P de Souza, The Greek and Persian Wars 499-386 BC, Essential Histories
36, Osprey, 2003.
50
See the following titles: Hornblower op.cit; P Osborne, Greece in the Making, 1200-479 BC, Routledge,
1996
51
Osbourne, op cit,, pp. 351-352.
52
See my article: “Inscriptions and the Politics of the Persian Wars”, Doryanthes, 2(1), February, 2009, pp.
33-39.
14
Those Who Dare to Remain In Place:
Hoplite Warfare—the Evidence from the
Nicholson Museum
Pamela Chauvel
…the Athenians came on, closed with the enemy along the line, and fought in a
way not to be forgotten. They were the first Greeks, so far as I know, to charge at
a run, and the first who dared to look without flinching at Persian dress and the
men who wore it53
In 490BC a force of 10 000 Athenians and 1 000 Plataeans, outnumbered three to one,
not only defeated the Persian army, but did so with comparatively low fatalities, 192 dead,
compared to 6400 Persian deaths. This victory on the Plain of Marathon highlighted the
superiority of hoplite armour and techniques when facing a lighter armed and less
cohesive army.
But what was it really like for the men who fought in the Greek phalanx, who stood in their
ranks and faced the bristling spears and flashing bronze shields of the enemy across the
plain? Soldiers, fighting under Greek summer sun, faced dust from thousands of feet,
entering eyes and mouths, obscuring vision already restricted by cumbersome helmets.
As they held their spears high and raised their heavy shields did they feel fear or did they
focus on holding their place in the phalanx until finally one side broke through and the
defeated succumbed to panic and confusion?
So let each man hold to his place with legs well apart,
Feet planted on the ground, biting his lip with his teeth….
Covered by the belly of his broad shield
In his right hand let him brandish his mighty spear
Let him shake the fearsome crest upon his head 54
Although the Spartan poet Tyrtaeus was writing in the 7 th century, the fragments of his
poetry that survive have resonance for hoplite warfare.
In the sources there are only limited descriptions of battles from a soldier’s point of view.
What took place was different from battle to battle and a composite picture can only be
inferred from evidence which comes from three sources: archaeological, the actual armour
and weapons found; written accounts; and depictions on vases and artworks.
The Nicholson Museum at the University of Sydney contains several artefacts depicting
warriors fighting, or going off to war. The images are idealized and heroic. An example is
the Antimenes Amphora (Fig 1), which depicts a mythical scene, yet has the characters
equipped with armour and weapons of the 6 th century. The scene is of Herakles, wearing
his characteristic lion skin, fighting Kyknos, son of Ares. In the middle stands Zeus, on the
left supporting Herakles is the goddess Athena, and to the right, fighting with his son, is
Ares. Both Kyknos and Ares wear a bell cuirass, greaves, a short kilt and a Corinthian
helmet, although with different styles of crest. A lock of Kyknos’s long hair trails down his
back. Typical of hoplite battles, the weapons being used are thrusting spears. The artist
has indicated the outcome by having Herakles’ spear already piercing the shield of
Kyknos, and even more subtly, by the way the figures are standing. Herakles and Athena
53
54
Herodotus, The Histories, 6.113, translated by Aubrey de Selincourt (Penguin, 1954).
Tyrtaeus, fr.11. 21-22, 24-26 in Andrew M. Miller, Greek Lyric: An Anthology in Translation (1996).
15
Fig. 1: Antimenes Amphora (NM71.1), 525-500 BC
lean forward, their weight on their front foot,
bodies open. Kyknos and Ares have their weight
on the back foot, shield up in a defensive
position. It is evident that Herakles, the hero, will
win.
Interestingly, Herakles and Kyknos are carrying a
Boeotian shield. No actual version of this type of
shield has been found yet it seems to be
associated in artworks with heroic scenes, and
pre-dates the round hoplon shield. The Dipylon
shield on the Geometric krater (c.750-725BC)
from the Nicholson Museum (fig 2) could be an
earlier type of shield or a different artistic depiction
of it. On the Antimenes Amphora, Athena and
Ares hold round hoplon shields. Both Boeotian
and hoplon shields employ an inner arm and hand
grip but because of the different shield shapes,
Herakles’ left arm is outstretched while Athena’s is
bent.
Fig. 2: Dipylon Krater (NM46.41)
750-725 BC
16
Fig. 3: Fragment of an Attic Cup with Warriors Fighting (NM56.12).
The double grip was an
innovation that played an
important role in the changing
nature of military engagement
in Greece. Now the weight
could be distributed by placing
the left forearm through a
metal band in the centre
(porpax) and holding a leather
hand grip (antilabe) at the rim.
The cup fragment (fig 3)
shows the inside of the shield
and its distinctive grip. The
warriors’ stance is
Fig. 4: Attic Cup Fragment, Warrior farewelling his
characteristic of artistic
wife (NM56.18)
representations of military
engagement, a wide legged stance with left foot forward. The shield was made of wood,
often faced with bronze, measured about 1m, across and weighed about 7kg. The extra
support provided by the porpax enabled the warrior to wield heavier shields than
previously. In addition, the deeply concave shape allowed the bearer to rest the shield on
his shoulder, holding it at an angle slanted away from the body as shown in fig 4. This cup
fragment from Attica depicts a warrior farewelling his wife. He wears a crested Corinthian
helmet and carries a long thrusting spear.
The thrusting spear was the main weapon of the hoplite soldier. As a back up he would
also carry a short stabbing sword. Spears were about 8 foot long with a butt spike or
17
sauroter (“lizard killer”), useful as a back up when one’s spear broke. A bronze spear
head from the Nicholson museum (fig 5) is socketed with a central rib and measures about
20cm
Fig. 5: Bronze Spear Head (NM62.288).
The black figure lekythos from 550-525 BC (fig 6) depicts two fighting warriors who face
each other side on, shields angled and resting on their left shoulder. Each employs an
overhead thrust with his spear. The target of an overhead attack such as this was to strike
above the opponents shield to the unprotected area of the neck or even the head. A
passage in the Iliad describing the Greek hero Ajax’s attack on a Trojan ally shows how
grizzly such an injury could be:
….sweeping in through the mass of the fighters,
struck him at close quarters through the brazen
cheeks of his helmet
and the helm crested with horse-hair was riven
about the spearhead
to the impact of the huge spear and the weight of
the hand behind it
and the brain ran from the wound along the spear
by the eye-hole, bleeding. 55
The other option for attack with a spear was
underhand, aiming beneath the opponent’s shield to
the unprotected area of the groin:
His head already white and his beard grizzled,
Breathing out his valiant spirit in the dust,
Clutching his bloody genitals in his hands56
The victim in this case is an old man and it is worth
noting that all Greek citizens between the age of 18
and 60 could expect to be called up to fight. There
was no standing army as such but men were
expected to provide their own armour and weapons
and fight for their polis when required. The
exception, of course, was Sparta.
55
56
Fig. 6: Attic Black Figure Lekythos
with Fighting Warriors.
(NM49.07) 550-525 BC
Homer, Iliad, Book 17.293-298, translated by Richmond Lattimore (University of Chicago Press, 1951).
Tyrtaeus, fr.10.23-5.
18
The Spartans at this time were the most feared army in Greece, famous for their superior
skill in hoplite warfare, and for their discipline. Unlike other Greeks they were trained from
an early age in military skills. Just facing the Spartan army was enough to strike fear in
the hearts of the opposing army. Thucydides describes the superior discipline of the
Spartans as they advanced across the plain of Mantinaea (418 BC) slowly to the sound of
many flute players positioned in the ranks, in contrast to the violent and angry approach of
the Argives and their allies. This enabled the Spartans to advance steadily in step without
breaking their ranks, as usually happens when large armies are moving forward to join
battle. 57
Spartan bravery is no where more legendary than in
the story of the 300 at the Battle of Thermopylae,
which took place ten years after the Battle of
Marathon during the Persian’s second invasion. A
Persian scout, sent to spy on the enemy, was
amazed to see the Spartans nonchalantly stripped
for exercise while others were combing their long
hair.
Compared to Athens, there is very little written
evidence in their own words about the Spartans and
the main archaeological evidence comes from the
site of the Sanctuary of Artemis Orthia where,
among other things, 100 000 small lead figurines
have been found, many in the shape of hoplite
soldiers. Left in the sanctuary as votive offerings,
they were cast in shallow, single sided molds.
Examples from the Nicholson Museum (fig 7) show
them carrying a large hoplon shield embossed with
Fig. 7: Lead Votive Figurines from
either a wheel or rosette pattern, wearing a high
theTemple of Artemis Orthia,
plumed helmet and carrying a spear. Most of them
Sparta (NM448.316.1-29)
face left with their shield held on the left side as you
550-525BC
would expect. However, the one facing right is
carrying his shield on the wrong arm, perhaps due to an error on the mold engravers part,
forgetting to reverse the figure.58 This figure is also different to the others in that he isn’t
standing in a characteristically wide leg stance.
Depending on what they could afford, since soldiers paid for their own equipment, many
hoplites would not have worn every piece of ‘hoplite panoply’ (greaves, shield,
breastplate, helmet, spear and sword) and there would have been many individual
variations. Not only would the full panoply have been incredibly heavy (about 30kg 59) and
restrictive, it would have been incredibly hot (battles in the ancient world were fought in
summer) and uncomfortable. Describing the battle at Pylos during the Peloponnesian
War, Thucydides writes,
for most of the day, both sides held out, tired as they were with the fighting and
the thirst and the sun” 60
57
Thucydides, History of the Peloponnesian War, 5.70 translated by Rex Warner (Penguin, 1954).
A.J.B Wace, “The Lead Figurines” in R.M. Dawkins, The Sanctuary of Artemis Orthia at Sparta (London,
1929) p. 269
59
Victor Davis Hanson, The Western Way of War (New York, 1989) p. 56
60
Thuc. 4.35
58
19
As time went on, greaves and cuirass were often not worn. The change seems to be a
combination of the effectiveness of the phalanx formation and efficacy of the large shields.
This is supported by archaeological evidence that indicates that armour tended to get
lighter, less cumbersome, and less expensive.
Early on, the cuirass was made out of bronze, covered the front and back and had an
outward curve or bell shape to allow for movement as seen on the cup fragment (fig 3).
The earliest example of a cuirass was found in a grave at Argos (c.750BC) although the
workmanship suggests that this item had been in existence for some time.61 Later the
cuirass changed to a shorter model, often made from linen or leather and with hinged
strips of leather or metal hanging down to protect the groin while allowing maneuverability.
Fig, 8: Fragment of an Attic Hydria, Warriors Fighting. (NM97.68), 550-525 BC
Helmets also changed over time, becoming lighter and less restrictive. The bronze
Corinthian helmet seen on the black figure pottery in the
Nicholson’s collection (figs 1,3,5,6,8) was predominant from
700–500 BC. The Corinthian helmet covered most of the
soldier’s face and gave maximum protection. However, it only
allowed the wearer to look forward so, was only suitable for
fighting in close formation. It also had no opening for the ears
which made hearing difficult. The fragment from a hydria (fig
8) depicts two different styles of helmet crests. The one on the
left is fixed across the helmet while the other two are elevated
and the soldier in the middle has taken off his helmet to reveal
his long hair.
A small perfume oil jar from Rhodes (fig 9) in the Nicholson
Museum, dated to around 600BC, portrays a different type of
helmet and one that has only been found in artistic
61
Fig. 9: Warrior Head Vase
(NM47.01), 625-600 BC
Oswyn Murray, Early Greece (Great Britain, 1980), p. 123.
20
representations. This Ionian helmet has a semicircular forehead guard, hinged cheek
pieces and is more open than the Corinthian helmet, having no nose guard. The warrior
himself has a moustache, suggesting maturity.
Over time, the more open Pilos style of helmet (fig
10) was adopted. Usually made of metal or
leather, this bronze example from an Etruscan
tomb would have been padded inside but with no
cradle to provide a buffer against blows to the
head.
Therefore while there were changes to the armour
worn by hoplite soldiers over time, two items
remained consistent, the heavy shield and thrusting
spear. While every battle was unique, it is possible
to recreate a general sequence of events.
Usually an initial sacrifice for divination would be
made before setting off for battle, then just prior to
the armies’ engaging, another sacrifice, perhaps a
ram, would be offered to ensure a favourable
outcome as was done at the Battle of Marathon:
The dispositions made, and the preliminary
sacrifices promising success, the word was
given to move, and the Athenians advanced at
a run62
Fig. 10: Bronze Pylos (NM82.29)
4th Century BC
This mode of engagement was highly irregular and
surprised the Persians who did not quite believe
their eyes when they saw the Athenians running at them from a mile away. This part of
Herodotus’ story has been called into question by historians who believe that the weight of
the hoplite panoply is such that about 200m. is as much as any soldier could endure at a
run63 and still have energy left to hold up his weapons and do battle. Probably the hoplite
armies approached at a walk until they came within about 200m. of the enemy, at which
point they would lift up the pace into a jog.
The Commander-in-Chief gave the command to advance by beginning the paean, a
marching song or chant designed to keep the phalanx in step and psychologically
encourage the army while striking fear into the hearts of the enemy. The trumpeter
sounded the call and the soldiers joined in the song. As the armies drew close together in
battle the marching paean might be replaced by a war cry, eleleu. 64
The classic phalanx formation was usually about 8 rows deep while the width varied
according to the size of the army. Men lined up by locality so they were fighting alongside
neighbours and relatives. At the Battle of Plataea in 479 BC, the Spartan army of 5000
would have been over 600 files wide.65 Given that the spears were about 8 feet long, only
the first couple of rows would have been able to have their spears over their shoulders and
62
Herod. 6.112
Hanson, op. cit., p. 144.
64
W. Kendrick Pritchett, The Greek State at War, Part 1 (University of California Press, 1971), p. 107.
65
Paul Cartledge, The Spartans: The World of the Warrior Heroes of Ancient Greece (New York, 2004), p.
67.
63
21
ready to attack. The rows behind would need to keep theirs raised to avoid harming their
fellow hoplites.
As to what happened next there has been much dispute, in particular as to how much the
push (othismos) was an actual push with hoplites bracing themselves with their shields
against the men in front or a metaphoric push to drive back the enemy with intensive
fighting 66 which seems the more probable. What the sources do emphasize is the need
for each man to hold his place and play his part because it is only by doing so that the
army can fight as a cohesive unit:
Those who dare to remain in place at one another’s side
and advance together toward hand-in-hand combat and the fore-fighters
they die in lesser numbers, and they save the army behind them 67
As each man stood in line their shield gave more protection to their left side and it was this
that caused armies to move to the right as Thucydides explains
because fear makes every man want to do his best to find protection for his
unarmed side in the shield of the man next to him on the right68
So the two armies met, and what was effective at the battle of Marathon against large
numbers of less well-armed troops became brutal when two hoplite armies met head on.
Those at the front ranks could see a little more through their enclosed helmets than the
men behind who would have had little idea of what was going on through the clamour and
the dust. 69
Yet despite differences in weaponry and fighting technique, the human face of war is
universal. Thucydides description of the Athenian defeat during the Peloponnesian War
captures the anguish in the face of defeat and at the loss of lives that is common to all
wars:
The dead were unburied, and when any man recognized one of his friends lying
among them, he was filled with grief and fear; and the living who, whether sick
or wounded, were being left behind caused more pain than did the dead to
those who were left alive, and were more pitiable than the lost. Their prayers
and their lamentations made the rest feel impotent and helpless…..There was
also a profound sense of shame and deep feelings of self-reproach.70
The hoplite soldiers depicted on black figure pottery in the Nicholson Museum pre-date
the Battle of Marathon by up to half a century. Yet they can still provide evidence of the
armour and weapons used by the Athenians when they faced the Persian army for the first
time. While some elements might have been missing such as greaves and the Corinthian
style of helmet, the large round shield with its double grip, the long spear and the way it
was employed in an overhead thrust, remain the same.
66
Hans van Wees argues that pushing as a method of attack would not be sustainable throughout the battle
and that artistic representations show shields held at an angle, which wouldn’t be effective for pushing. “The
Development of the Hoplite Phalanx: Iconography and reality in the seventh century” in War and Violence in
Ancient Greece (The Classical Press of Wales, 2000), p. 131.
67
Tyrtaeus fr. 11.11-13
68
Thuc. 5.71.
69
Thuc. 7.44 Comparing the chaos and confusion of a night battle: In daylight…even then they cannot see
everything, and in fact no one knows much more than what is going on around himself.
70
Thuc. 7.75.
22
Cornelius Nepos: Life
of Miltiades
Translated with an historical commentary by: Garriock Duncan
INTRODUCTION: Those with some knowledge of
Marathon and the Persian Wars are probably somewhat
puzzled by my choice of Cornelius Nepos. Serious
students of these topics are not going to consult him.
They will concentrate on the Histories of Herodotus and the
releva nt biographies by Plutarch. Nepos represents a
stage in the intellectual life of Rome towards the end of the
republican period and we must assume the subjects of his
(surviving) Lives were of interest to his contemporaries.
Some of his biographies are short and they illustrate that
the short answer is not just a modern phenomenon. If
Plutarch wrote a life of Miltiades, it has not survived. So let
us read the one by Cornelius Nepos. 71
Bust of Miltiades
(i) The author: Cornelius Nepos is not widely known. 72 Indeed, very few students of
Roman History or Latin Literature today would be familiar with him. He was born c. 110 BC
in Transpadane Gaul, from perhaps Pavia or Milan. 73 He knew the poet, Catullus, another
Transpadane, though some twenty five years Nepos’ junior, and they exchanged mutual
compliments for the other’s writings. 74 There is no evidence of Nepos’ being in Rome
before 65 BC, the year in which he says Atticus came back from Greece (Atticus, 4.5).75
He probably made the acquaintance of Cicero trough Atticus. Nepos was possibly a
member of the literary salon hosted by Atticus. His relations with Cicero are problematic
because of Nepos’ distaste for Cicero’s philosophical writings, of which he (Cicero) was
inordinately proud.76 However, two books of Cicero’s letters were dedicated to Cornelius.
77
He spoke well of Mark Antony but showed no warmth for Octavian; he appears to have
been totally apolitical. 78
Nepos was a prolific writer. He wrote a universal history; biographies of several notable
figures from Roman history, past and present; a geographical treatise; and even romantic
poetry. 79 The Life of Miltiades survives from his last work, de viris illustribus (“on Famous
Men”), containing biographies of both Greeks and Romans and in many ways a precursor
71
For a brief discussion on the ancient sources for Marathon, see: Krentz, 2010, pp. 177-179; Sekunda, 2002, p. 94.
Full bibliographic details will be found in the list of References at the end of this article.
72
His first name (praenomen) is not known. For the pattern of Roman names, see: Duncan, 2009, pp. 18-19.
73
The date is calculated from his implication that he and Atticus, the friend of Cicero, were roughly aequales (i,e the
same age): Atticus, 19.1. For “Transpadane”, see: Duncan, 2010, pp. 21-22.
74
Horsfall,1989, p. 117.
75
Horsfall , 1989, p. 32, fr. 38, and p. 118, n. on fr. 38.
76
Cicero, Letters to Atticus, 16.5.5.
77
Horsfall, 1989, p. xvi.
78
Duff, 1953, pp. 309-310; Horsfall, 1989, p. xv.
79
Duff, 1953, p. 310; Horsfall, 1989, p. xvii
23
to Plutarch’s Parallel Lives of the Noble Greeks and Romans.80 However, Nepos is
universally regarded as a very minor Latin writer. 81
(ii) The translation: I would not normally have translated the Miltiades but rather just had
recourse to a translation. It is indicative of the neglect of Nepos, that the requisite shelves
of Fisher Library (Usyd) do not hold any (English) translation of Nepos. 82 His style is
generally reminiscent of Caesar but occasionally he tries the grand Ciceronian periodic
sentence – alas, not well. 83 I am very confident that no -one will ever need this translation
as a crib when studying the Latin text of the Miltiades. So, I have not sought to provide a
rigid literal translation. However, to give an indication of his grand style, I provide a very
precise translation of the first sentence of the Miltiades, following as far as English allows,
the word order of Nepos’ Latin.
For those who might want to try their hand at a piece of Nepotic Latin, I have included the
text of the first sentence of Nepos’ preface (Praefatio, 1.1 – sorry, no translation):
Non dubito fore plerosque, Attice, qui hoc genus scripturae leve et non satis
dignum summorum virorum personis iudicent, cum relatum legent quis
musicam docuerit Epaminondam, a ut in eius virtutibus commemorari, saltasse
eum commode scienterque tibiis cantasse.
I have made use of a number of resources in preparing the translation and attached
comments. The text used is that of Winstedt (1904) and I have checked my translation
against that of Rolfe (1929). The notes are a collaborative effort . However, the main
contribution is the commentary of Nipperdey (1879). 84
The Commentary: The notes are purposefully detailed. For, I am sure that most readers
will find the notes more useful than the text of Nepos. I have described the commentary
as historical; Herodotean is probably more accurate. The notes are principally a cross
reference to the edition of Strassler (2007). 85 This is to be expected since Herodotus’
account is the standard. Indeed, it is rare to find an historian preferring Nepos’ version of
any episode in the career of Miltiades II to that of Herodotus. The one exception I have
come across is Green (1970).86
THE LIFE OF MILTIADES
Introductory Note: Unfortunately for Nepos, there are two Miltiades prominent in this period of Greek history. I am
going to follow the practice of Hignett and Jeffery and call them, Miltiades I, and Miltiades II. 87 Miltiades I was the
son of Cypselus; whereas, Miltiades II was the son of Miltiades I’s younger half brother, Cimon. Further confusion is
caused by the use of the same names in different generations, e.g. Miltiades II’s calling his own son, Cimon, after his
grandfather. Needless to say, Nepos confused them both. (ch.s 1 and 2).88
80
See: Geiger. 1985. There is another de viris illustribus surviving. This a late imperial work (4th century AD?) and
concentrates solely on Roman legendary and republican figures. For a translation, see: Sherman, Jr., 1973. 1973). The
authorship of Sextus Aurelius Victor is now rejected (Spawforth, 2003, p. 222b).
81
See: Duff, 1953, pp. 311-312; Horsfall, 1989, pp. xviii-xix.
82
The exception is Horsfall, 1989. However, he only provides a translation of the Cato and the Atticus.
83
On his style, see: Duff, 1953, p. 312; Horsfall, 1989, pp. xviii-xix.
84
I must thank one of my students, Monica Naish, for translating Nipperdey’s German text.
85
References to Herodotus are to: R B Strassler, ed., The Landmark Herodotus, Pantheon Books, 2007
86
One example. In his account of the failure of the Parian expedition pp. 44-45), Green’s text is based solely on Nepos
(7.3).
87
Hignett, 1952, Miltiades, q.v., index, p. 413b; Jeffrey, 1976, “Miltiades”, q.v., index, p. 268a.
88
References without name of author or title of text are to Nepos, Miltiades.. For a stemma of the family, see: Higbie,
2007, p. 791. A brief account of relationships within the family is given by Herodotus (Hdt., 6.34, 38,103). Herodotus
24
1(1) [Concerning] Miltiades II, son of Cimon89, the Athenian, since, because of the
antiquity of his family90, the renown of his ancestors and his own character 91, he alone of
all his family particularly excelled and he was of that age, that not only could his fellow
citizens expect well of him but they could even take confidence that he would be the sort
of person that he was known to be, it happened that the Athenians wished to send
colonists to the Chersonese.92 (2)Since their number was great and many wished to take
part in the migration, envoys were chosen from among them and sent on a mission to
consult Apollo as to whom would be the best leader to use. For, at that time, the
Thracians were controlling the area and the issue would have to be resolved by arms.
(3)To the envoys, the Pythian priestess mentioned Miltiades I by name and stated that
they should take him with them. If they were to do this, the undertaking would turn out
well. 93 (4)Relying on this response by the oracle, Miltiades I set out by sea with a chosen
band of followers. 94 When he (i.e. Miltiades II) had reached Lemnos and was desiring to
bring the inhabitants of the island under the power of the Athenians, and had demanded
that they should do this of their own free will, the Lemnians mockingly replied that they
would only do this when after setting out from his home he had reached Lemnos with the
help of the Aquilo wind.95 For this wind, rising in the north, blows in the face of those
setting out from Athens. (5)Miltiades II, having no time to lose, continued the course he
was holding and arrived at the Chersonese.
2(1)After a short time there, when the forces of the barbarians had been scattered 96 and
the whole region, the object of his quest, was under his control, Miltiades II fortified those
locations suitable for defensive positions. The large number of people he had brought
with him, he allocated to farming. He enriched them by frequent raids. (2)He was
has obviously been confused by the use of the same names in different generations of the family (see Higbie, 2007, pp.
787-788). The later writer, Marcellinus, also records details of the stemma of the Philaids. His information probably
only adds to the confusion (see: Fornara, 1977, n. 26, pp. 29-30 and n. 5, p. 30). For brief accounts of careers of the two
Miltiades, see: Boardman, 1999, pp. 64-265 (Miliades I), 265-266 (Miliades II).
89
Miltiades II married a Thracian women, Hegesipyle, and Cimon was their son (Plutarch [Plut.], Cimon, 4 (p. 144).
All references to Plutarch are to: Plutarch, The Rise and Fall of Athens, Penguin Classics, 1960.
90
The Philaids, the family to which both Miltiades belonged, ultimately claimed descent from Aeacus, son of Zeus
(Herodotus {Hdt], 6.35.1). The claim of descent from a divine being was standard among the Graeco-Roman elites; cf.
the claim by Julius Caesar that his family, the Julii Caesares were descended from Venus (Suetonius, The Deified
Julius, 6.1). Throughout the Miltiades, Nepos always uses the Latin forms of Greek names. Unfortunately, uniformity
is impossible. All Greek names will be spelled in the form familiar to English readers.
91
Nepos uses the Latin, modestia, for the Greek, sophrosune (“prudence’). See: Adkins, 1972, pp. 128, 132.
92
A chersonese (chersos [dry land] + nesos [island[) is the generic term in Greek for a peninsula (Liddell, 1964, q,v.,
p. 887a). The mention of the Thracians (1.2) make it obvious that the Thracian Chersonese, the modern Gallipoli
Peninsula, is meant. The status of the colonists is unclear. Both Nepos (1.1) and Herodotus (6.36.7) mention settlers
departing with Miltiades I. Nepos is silent about anyone returning with Miltiades II, whereas Herodotus mentions his
return with initially a convoy of five ships (6.42.2). Given the Athenian context, it is likely that they were kleruchoi
(Hornblower, 2003a, pp. 347b-348a). Although granted an allotment of land (kleros – Liddell, 19464, q.v., p. 436b) in
foreign territory, they always retained their Athenian citizenship and the right to return to Athens (cf. Hdt., 4.156).
93
Nepos account is significantly different to Herodotus’. It was the inhabitants of the Chersones, the Dolonci, who
consulted the Pythian priestess about a war with a neighbouring people, the Apsinthians (Hdt., 6.34.1). The answer was
that the first man to offer the envoys hospitality should be invited to become their leader (Hdt., 6.34.2). The envoys
reached Athens before an offer of hospitality was made by Miltiades I (Hdt., 6.35.2). Miltiades I consulted the Pythian
priestess and was told to accept their offer (Hdt., 6.35.3-36.1).
94
Since Nepos is supposedly writing of Miltiades II, he does not mention the significant reverse suffered by Miltiades I.
Miltiades I was captured by the Lampsacenes and only released because of the intervention of Croesus of Lydia (Hdt.,
6.37). Nepos seems unawares that Miltiades II had, actually, been sent out by the Pisistratids, who “treated him well”
(Hdt., 6.39.1).
95
It is Miltiades II, who gains Lemnos for Athens (Hdt., 137-140). Nepos talks of Miltiades II setting out from “home”,
when he obviously means Athens. He will continue this usage, since it later allows Miltiades II to trick the Lemnians.
(2.4).
96
The “barbarians’ are the Apsinthians (Hdt., 6.36.2)
25
supported in his endeavour no less by forethought than by luck. For, when thanks to the
bravery of his soldiers he had crushed the enemy army, he resolved matters with the
utmost fairness and decided to stay in that very place to live.97 (3) Among his followers, he
enjoyed the position of a king, though he lacked the title , 98 Miltiades II gained this position
no less by his authority than by his sense of fair play. He did not stint in showing favour to
the Athenians, from among whom he had set out. As a result, it came about that he
gained a permanent position of authority no less with the consent of those, who had
despatched him, than of those, with whom he has set out. (4)With the Chersonese
organized in this way, Miltiades II returned to Lemnos and demanded, according to the
agreement with them, the surrender of their city. The Lemnians had said that, when
Miltiades II arrived there after setting out from his home before a north wind, they would
surrender. He now lived in the Chersonese. (5)The Carians, then inhabiting Lemnos,
although matters had turned out unexpectedly, did not dare resist, overcome not by the
argument of their opponents but rather their good luck, and moved from the island.99 With
equal good luck, Miltiades II brought the rest of the islands, called the Cyclades, under the
power of Athens. 100
3(1)At the same time, Darius, King of the Persians, having brought an army over from Asia
into Europe, decided to make war on the Scythians. He had a bridge built across the river
Hister to bring over his forces. To safeguard the bridge in his absence, he appointed the
men of rank he had brought with him from Ionia and Aeolis. 101 To each of these men he
had given permanent rule of the cities they came from. 102 (2)For he thought he could most
easily retain under his power the Greek speakers who lived in Asia, if he had handed the
cities over for safe keeping to his friends, who would have no hope of safety if he were
overthrown. Among the number, to whom this guardianship was entrusted, was Miltiades
II. 103 (3)When frequent messengers brought news that Darius was conducting the
campaign badly and was being hard pressed by the Scythians, Miltiades II encouraged the
protectors of the bridge not to let slip the opportunity, presented by fate, of freeing
Greece.104 (4)If Darius, together with the forces he had with him, were to perish, not only
would Europe be safe, but also those of the Greek race, who lived in Asia, would be free
97
Hence the Chersonese now became his home rather than Athens. This justifies Miltiades I’s claim in 2.4.
Miltiades II, like his uncle before him, Miltiades I, was tyrant of the Chersonese. Tyrants were relatively common in
this era, eg the men of rank (3.1) and, of course, the {Pisistratids (8.1). Tyrant is a specific constitutional term and does
not mean tyrant, in our sense.
99
The inhabitants of Lemnos were not Carians but Pelasgians (Hdt., 6.137; Thuc., 4.109.4). Herodotus provides the
name of two cities on Lemnos – Hephaestia and Myrina. Hephaistia surrendered; Myrina did not and had to be put
under siege (6.140.2).
100
Nepos has badly confused Miltiades I and Miltiades II in 2. It was Miltiades II who gained control of Lemnos (Hdt.,
6.137ff).. The story is too long to recount here. Thus, it was Miltiades II who sailed from home to Lemnos with the
north wind (Hdt., 6.139.4-140.1) Lemnos was not one of the Cyclades (see map [Hdt., 445]. Lemnos is the un –named
island s.w from Imbros). The Cyclades did not come under Athenian control till the formation of the Delian League
(Thucydides [Thuc.], 1.98.2 – references are to: The Landmark Thucydides, ed. R B Strassler, The Free Press, 1996).
The reference refers to the Athenian attack on Naxos, the principal island in the Cyclades (see note 32 [French, 1971, p.
35]). The Cyclades are mentioned in the list of Athnian allies on the outbreak of the Peloponnesian War (Thuc., 1.9.4).
101
The bridge had, in fact, been built by the Ionians (Hdt., 4.89), Darius’ original plan had been to have the broken
apart once his army crossed it. However, he was dissuaded of this course by Koes, son Exandros, of Mytilene, on the
grounds that this would trap his army in Scythia (Hdt., 4.98). Darius, then, ordered the Ionians to guard the bridge for
sixty days, and if he had not returned by then to dismantle the bridge (Hdt., 4.98).
102
I.e. these rulers were tyrants.
103
Nepos is now back on subject. Miltiades I died c. 519 and was succeeded by his half brother, Stesagoras. Miltiades
I was held in high regard by his former subjects and a number of rituals were celebrated in his honour (Hdt., 6.38.1).
Stesagoras only reigned for few years before he was killed (c. 516 BC). Thereafter, Miltiades II was sent out to the
Chersonese by Hippias, the last Pisistratid tyrant of Athens (Hdt., 6.39.1)
104
This argument was, in fact, advanced by the Scythians (Hdt., 4.133, 136). When the Ionians discussed the proposal
of the Scythians, Miltiades II supported it (Hdt., 4.138.1)
98
26
from the domination of the Persians and the danger they represented. Indeed, this could
be done easily. For once the bridge was broken up, the King would perish in a few days
either from the weapons of the enemy or from lack of supplies. 105 (5)When this plan met
with general acceptance, Hestiaeus of Miletus, fearing it might be carried out, objected,
saying that the impact on them, who held supreme power, was not the same as on the
masses, because their power was bound up with the rule of the King. 106 When he was
dead, they would be swept out of power and face the wrath of their citizens. Therefore he
so recoiled from the plan of the others that he thought nothing more useful than
strengthening the rule of the Persians. (6)Since the majority agreed with his opinion,
Miltiades II, in no doubt that with so many aware of the plan it would soon reach the
hearing of the King, abandoned the Chersonese and returned to Athens. 107 His scheme,
although it failed, was, nonetheless, particularly worthy of praise, since it was more
compatible with the freedom of all than his staying in power.108
4(1)Darius, however, when he had returned to Asia from Europe, heeding the advice of his
companions to bring Greece under his sway109, put together a fleet of five hundred ships
and put Datis and Artaphernes in command of it. 110 Also, he gave them a force of two
hundred thousand infantry and ten thousand cavalry. He maintained that the reason he
was hostile to the Athenians was because with their help the Ionians had stormed Sardis
and slaughtered the garrison. 111 (2)The King’s commanders, once the fleet reached
Euboia, speedily captured Eretria and carrying off all the citi zens of that place sent them to
the King in Asia.112 Then they moved to Attica and led their forces to the plain of
Marathon. 113 This is about ten miles from Athens. (3)The Athenians though greatly
perturbed by this host so near and so large, only sought he lp from the Spartans. The
Athenians despatched Phidippus, a runner of the type called hemerodromoe, to announce
that help was needed quickly. 114 (4)At Athens, however, they elected ten generals to
105
It was the strategy of the Scythians to lure Darius into staying too long and, then, for him to run out of supplies
(Hdt., 4.130).
106
Nepos’ narrative agrees closely with Herodotus’ at this point (Hdt., 4.138.2-3).
107
Nepos has lost several years, at this point. The episode of the bridge, found in Hdt. 4.136-137, is dated to c. 513
BC. Miltiades II did not return to Athens until several years later, in 493 BC (Hdt., 6.41). The bridge was partly
dismantled to fool the Scythians (Hdt., 4.139-140). However, when the bridge was needed, Histaeus organised its
repair and was responsible for Darius’ army crossing back over the Hister (Hdt., 6.141). For the later activities of
Histaeus and his son-in-law, Aristagoras, see: Andrewes, 1974, pp. 124-127).
108
Again, Nepos’ account is too simplified. Miltiades II did not leave the Chersonese on his own will nor in pursuit of
any noble motives. He was, in fact, expelled by the Scythians but returned after a couple of years. (Hdt., 6.39-40). His
final departure from the Chersonese was caused by his fear of the Phoenicians. In his flight, his eldest son,
Metiochos, half brother to Cimon, was captured by the Phoenicians and handed over to the Persians, who treated him
with all respect (Hdt., 6.141). On his return to Athens, Miltiades II was prosecuted for tyranny but was acquitted. (Hdt.,
6.104.2).
109
Darius had given instructions that whenever his dinner was served, he be reminded of the attack on Sardis (Hdt.,
5.105, 6.94).
110
Herodotus does not give a number for the infantry and cavalry nor for the various transport ships but only gives the
size of the fleet, 600 vessels (6.95).
111
This burning of Sardis occurred in 499 BC during the Ionian Revolt several years after Darius’ Scythian expedition.
The Persian garrison was not slaughtered but had retired to the citadel and withstood the Ionian assault (Hdt., 5.100101).
112
In order to avoid the perils of Mt Athos, the Persians crossed the Aegean Sea (Hdt., 6.94), capturing Naxos on the
way (Hdt., 6.96). Eretria fell to the Persians because of treachery (Hdt., 6.100-101). Athens did despatch 4000
kleruchs from the Chalcidice to help Eretria, but they left after being advised of internal unrest in Eretria (Hdt., 6.100.1)
113
This was on the advice of Hippias, who was the adviser to the Persians on all things Athenian (Hdt., 6.102.1, 107).
114
On the episode, see: Billows, 2010, pp. 41-42; Krentz, 2010, pp. 108-110; Usher, 1988, n. on Hdt., 105.1 (pp. 2122). Herodotus (6.105.1) records the name as Philippides, which would mean something along the lines of “the son of
the horse lover”. Strassler , 2007(n. 6.105.1a [p. 468]) records Nepos’ form, Pheidippides, as a variant. A very modern
translation of the name would be “son of the horse sparer”. Horses were not unknown among the Athenian elite and so
27
command the army. 115 Among them was Miltiades II. 116 Between them was a major
dispute whether to defend themselves from behind their walls or to settle the matter by
going out to meet the enemy. 117 (5)Miltiades II, alone, especially urged them to take the
field at the first opportunity. 118 If this were done, it would both raise the spirits of the
citizens, when they realised that there was no lack of confidence in their courage, and, for
the same reason, it would make the enemy slower to act, if they were to notice that the
Athenians dared commit to battle with such a puny force. 119
5(1)At this time, the only state to offer aid to the Athenians was the Plataeans. They sent
a thousand soldiers. 120 So, by their arrival the force was made up to ten thousand armed
men.121 The force was ablaze with an amazing enthusiasm for battle. (2)As a result
Miltiades II had more influence than his colleagues. 122 So, the Athenians were persuaded
by his influence to lead out their forces from the city and to set up camp in a suitable
location. (3)Then, on the following day, with the army drawn up at the foot of mountains, in
an area not completely open – for there were isolated trees in many places – battle was
joined.123 The strategy was to use the height of the mountains as protection and to
prevent themselves being surrounded by the enemy’s superiority in cavalry by the
scattered trees. 124 (4)Datis knew that the location was not suited to his troops, but
nonetheless, relying on their number, he was eager to join battle.125This was all the more
because he was of the opinion it would be beneficial to his troops to commit to battle
before the Spartans arrived to bring help. So, he led forth one hundred thousand infantry
it is a mystery why Philippides did not ride a horse to Sparta and back. For the Philippides’ episode and the Spartans
inability to respond immediately, see: Hdt., 6.105-106.
115
The structure of the Athenian army had undergone significant changes as a result of the tribal reforms of Cleisthenes,
c. 510 (Aristotle, Constitution of Athens, 21.2 [Penguin Classics, 1984]; Forrest, 1866, pp. 194-195). The old Ionian
tribal system had been replaced by ten new locality based tribes (Hdt., 6.55.2; Hignett, 1952, pp. 133-143). It was the
military force of each of the tribes, which now comprised the Athenian army (see: Osborne1996,,pp. 295-296)..
116
Herodotus states that Miltiades II was the tenth general (6.103.1). Nepos omits
the role Callimachus, the Archon Polemarch (Hdt., 6.109.2). thereby ignoring the fact that Callimachus was, officially,
commander-in-chief of the Athenian force (Aristotle, Constitution of Athens, 2.2; Usher, 1988, nn. On Hdt., 103.1,
104.2, p. 21).
117
In Herodotus, the order of events is different. Initially, the Athenians had acted promptly, marching out as soon as
news of the landing was received (Hdt., 6.103.1) Then came the dispute over what course of action to follow (Hdt.,
6.109.1, 110).
118
Nepos has exaggerated Miltiades II’s role. Clearly, there was an even split between the generals, since the deadlock
was only broken by Callimachus’ casting his eleventh vote with Miltiades II (Hdt., 6.109.1). In spite of the support of
his five colleagues, MiltiadesII did not have the confidence to launch the battle til his actual day of command (Hdt.,
6.110). It is hard to imagine why Miltiades II had such influence.
119
The Persians were, in fact, dismissive of the Greek force (Hdt., 6.112.2)
120
See: Hdt., 6.108.
121
Traditionally, there were ten thousand Athenians and one thousand Plataeans. Herodotus gives no figures for either
the size of the Athenian or Plataean force at Marathon. Nepos’ figure for the Athenians is supported by Pausanias
(7.15.7). For the various estimates of ancient writers, see: Krent, 2010, p. 190, n. 3.. Also see the discussion of
Sekunda, 2002, pp. 18-19.
122
It is hard to imagine why Miltiades II had such influence. He had only returned to Athens in 493 BC, whereupon he
was prosecuted for (but acquitted of) tyranny (Hdt., 6.104.2). However, Herodotus (6.132.1) supports Nepos. He was
a wealthy man. When he left the Chersonese for Athens, he needed five ships to carry his treasure (Hdt., 6.41.1)
123
This rather confused passage is a reference to the Athenians’ use of abbat(t)is – felled trees, untrimmed with
branches facing out. It was a defensive tactic against enemy cavalry attack (Billows, 2010, p. 209; Lazenby 1993, p.
56).
124
Herodotus does not describe the plain of Marathon. The only clue he provides is that it was the part of Attica most
suited to cavalry operations (6.102). There has been significant change in the coastline since Marathon and it is no
longer possible to reconstruct the landform of 490. However, see: Krentz, 2010, pp. 111-122.
125
Hippias had deliberately chosen Marathon because of its suitability for cavalry operations (Hdt., 6.102.
28
and ten thousand cavalry and joined battle.126 (5)In the battle 127, the valour of the
Athenians so prevailed that they routed a force ten times their own number and caused
such fear that the Persians did not make for their camp but rather their ships. 128 Never
before has there been a more glorious victory. For never has such a small force brought
down such a mighty host.129
6(1)It does not seem inappropriate to consider what sort of reward was allocated to
Miltiades II for this victory. 130 In this way, it can easily be understood that the approach is
the same in all states. (2) Just as once among the Roman people, awards were few and
slight and consequently brought fame, but now are lavish and common, so we find it was
once the same with the Athenians. (3)For, although he had preserved the freedom
Athens and the whole of Greece, the following distinction was awarded to Miltiades II.
When a picture of the Battle of Marathon was being painted in the portico called the
Poikile, his likeness was place in the forefront of the group of ten generals as he was
encouraging the soldiers and giving the order for battle.131 (4)After it gained greater power
and was corrupted by the generosity of its magistrates132, the very same people voted
three hundred statues for Demetrius of Phalerum.133
7(1)After this battle, the Athenians put Miltiades II in charge of a fleet of seventy ships to
harry with war the islands which had aided the barbarians. 134 During this command, he
forced most of them to return to their allegiance; some he took by storm. (2) Of this group,
the island of Paros was so buoyed up by its own resources, it could not be won over by
argument. Miltiades landed troops from the ships and ringed the city with siege works,
and cut it off from every source of supplies. Next, with mantlets set up and soldiers in
126
Herodotus does not record the opinion of Datis, and in his account, it is the Athenians who attack the Persians
(6.110). Herodotus makes no mention of cavalry participating in the battle on either side. He specifically mentions that
the Athenians fought without the support of cavalry (6.112.2).
127
Unfortunately, Nepos provides no account of the Athenian tactics nor how the battle unfolded. However, see Hdt.,
6.111 (disposition of Athenian troops [Sekunda, 2002, pp. 54-55. 56, 57-58]), 112 (the charge of the Athenians [Krentz,
2010, pp. 142-153; Sekunda, 2002, pp. 64-65]), 113 (the fighting, in which Callimachus and one of the generals,
Stesilaos, were both killed).
128
The Persians appear to have had a back up plan. For they sailed to Athens in the hope of effecting a landing at
Phalerum before the Athenian force could return (Hdt., 6. 115). However, the hoplites returned in time to frustrate this
plan (Hdt., 6. 116).
129
This statement is certainly supported by the discrepant casualty figures – 192 Athenians vs. 6400 Persians (Hdt.,
6.116). For some archaeological evidence of the battle, see: Strassler, 2007, figures 6.117a and b (p. 476). Fig.a
includes a helmet found at Olympia, dedicated by Miltiades to Zeus.
130
Nepos is unawares that he mentions a significant reward for Miltiades II in the next paragraph (7.1). For, the
Athenians, purely on trust, since Miltiades II had not divulged his plans, voted him his expeditionary force (Hdt.
6.132.1).
131
Nepos is displaying his careless attitude to chronology. The Stoa Poikile (the “Painted Stoa”, i.e. the Stoa with
Paintings) was built as much as forty years after Marathon and is an aspect of the rehabilitation of Miltiade II’s
reputation (Hornblower, 2002, p. 19; Sekunda, 2002, p. 85). Pausanias, the travel writer of ancient Greece, visited the
Stoa in the 2nd century AD and , described the painting. However, while Miltiades II was given a prominent position,
so was Callimachus (Camp. 1986, pp. 69, 71).
132
Nepos has confused Athenian practice with Roman. In Athens, such endowments were made by the state not the
magistrates.
133
Demetrius of Phalerum (born c. 350 BC) was as an Athenian politician and writer. He belonged to the school of
philosophy called the Peripatetics. A brilliant orator but indifferent writer, he probably was awarded the statues
because of his achievement n maintaining Athens at peace within the wider Greek world (Bosworth, 2003, p. 448b).
Demetrius of Phalerum is sometimes regarded as the author of the treatise, On Style (Grube,1965, p. 110). He was,
also, one of Plutatch’s sources (Aristides, 1 [p. 109], 5 [p. 115]). Plutarch records two tradition regarding reaction to
Miltiades II at Marathon . In Themistocles, 3 (p. 80) the whole country rang with his praise: however, in Cimon, 8 (p.
149), Miltiades is refused any honour.
134
Miltiades II was able to use his political capital, resulting from the victory at Marathon to secure this command
((Hdt., 6.132.1). Herodotus makes no mention of other islands. The Parians had allegedly contributed one trireme to the
Persian fleet (Hdt., 133.1).
29
the tortoise formation, he drew near to the walls of the city. 135 (3)When he was on the
point of taking the city, a grove on the distant mainland, which was visible from the island,
caught fire at night, the result of some unknown cause. Upon seeing the flame, both the
towns folk and the besiegers came to the conclusion that it was a signal raised by the
marines of the King. (4)As a result, the Parians were dissuaded from surrender and
Militiades II fearing that the fleet of the King was at hand, fired his siege works, which he
had erected, returned to Athens with the same number of ships he had set out with but to
the great anger of his fellow citizens.136 (5)Consequently, he was charged with treason on
the grounds that, when he might have been able to take Paros by storm, he had been
bribed by the King and had left with the matter unresolved.137 At the time, he was in ill
health as a result of injuries, which he had suffered during the siege of the town. (6)Since
he was unable to speak in his own defence, his brother, Stesagoras spoke for him. 138
When the reason became known, he was not convicted of a capital charge but fined, the
amount being assessed at fifty talents, the amount spent on fitting out the fleet. 139
Because, he was, at the time, unable to pay the fine, he was put in chains in the state
prison and there passed his last day. 140
8(1)Although his charge derived from the episode at Paros, nonetheless his conviction
was due to another reason. For the Athenians, because of the tyranny of Pisistratus, which
had occurred a few years earlier, were greatly in fear of the power of all their fellow
citizens.141 It did not seem that Miltiades II, a man with much experience in important
military commands, could just be a private citizen, especially since he seemed to have
progressed from an acquaintance with to a desire for power, (3)For during all those years
he lived on the Chersonese, he enjoyed permanent control and had been labelled tyrant.
However, he was a fair one For he did not gain power by force but by the consent of his
135
Nepos is probably thinking of Roman practice. The Greeks were not unawares of siegecraft. In fact, it was
supposedly a particular Athenian skill. Nonetheless, virtually all successful Greek sieges were concluded either by
starvation or treachery (Lazenby, 1996). The Greeks did use tortoises but they were the equivalent to the Roman
mantlet, i.e. shed to cover attacking soldiers (Diodorus Siculus, , 12.28.2-3). The Greeks hoplite could not form the
tortoise formation as used by the Romans, since it required rectangular shaped shields, which could lock together, and
the hoplites carried a round shield (On Roman siegecraft, see: Webster, 1985, pp. 240-245).. In Herodotus, the Parians
frustrate Miltiades II by some swift wall building ((6.133.3-4).
136
This episode is not found in Herodotus (6.134). Miltiades II was persuaded to enter the sanctuary of Demeter by
night. At some point in his escapade, he injures his leg seriously enough to warrant returning to Athens (Hdt., 6.134)..
137
In Herodotus, the charge is ”deceiving the Athenians”. The charge was laid by Xanthipos son of Ariphron (6,136.1)
and father of Pericles (6.131.1).
138
Nepos has again confused Miltiades I with Miltiades II. Herodotus merely says the Miltiades II was defended by
family and friend (6.136.2).We have met Stesagoras previously (6.38; see Higbie, 2007, p. 791), where he is the
successor to Miltiades I as the tyrant of the Chersonnese.
139
Miltiades II was let off the capital charge because of past services to Athens but fined 50 talents (Hdt., 6.135.2).
Plutarch, Cimon, 4 (Penguin, p. 144), has the same amount.
140
This not mentioned by Herodotus, who merely records his death ((6.136.2). Cimon, subsequently, paid the fine.
141
This is the only reference to the Pisistratids in the text. The Pisistratid tyranny (Pisistratus and his two sons, Hippias
and Hiparchus) lasted from 560 to 510 BC. Nepos glosses over the fact that MiltiadesII had, in fact, been despatched
from Athens by the Pisitratids (Hdt., 6.39.1) to succeed his uncle Stesagoras (6.38)j Herodotus does not give any
indication of the date of the murder of Miltiades II’s father by Hippias and Hipparchus (6.103.3). However, Miltiades
II had , apparently, been on good terms with the Pisistratids for some years before his being sent out to the Chersonese.
For, fragments of the inscription, listing the names of the archons eponymous, survive (Fornara, 1977, n. 23 [pp. 2627]). The archon eponymous was a member of a boards of three archons (Aristotle, Constitution of Athens, 3.1, where
the office is describes simply as the archon), The name of the archon eponymous was used to date he year in Athens;
so, a position of considerable prestige, if not power (See: Fritz1964, n. 3 [pp. 150-151]; Hignett, 1952, p, 153). One
fragment contains the name <.ILTIADE.> (See: French, 1987, p. 56, for an illustration of the fragment). The
restoration, [M]ILTIADE[S], is virtually certain, i.e. Miltiades II (Fornara, 1977, p. 27, n. 2). The date, i.e. 524/523,
can be restored from Dionysius of Halicarnassus (Roman Antiquities, 8.3.1). Since the name of Cleisthenes, the
democratic reformer, is also mentioned on the stone, the inscription indicates a cosier relationship between the leading
families of Athens and the Pisistratids than indicated by Herodotus (French, 1987, pp. 55-56).,
30
fellow citizens and he retained it because of his character. 142 All men are both thought and
considered to be tyrants, who exercise power without any time limit in a state, which
enjoyed democratic systems. (4)However, in the case of Miltiades II, there was not only
the best of human nature but also remarkable identity with his fellow man, so that there
was no-one so lowly, who did not have open access to him. He had great respect among
all the Greek states, a noble name and the highest praise for his military achievements.
The people, recognising these qualities, preferred him to be punished though innocent
than they be in fear any longer.
The Helmet dedicated by Miltiades in the Treasury of Athens at Delphi. A close
examination reveals Miltiades name on the bottom rim of the left cheek.
142
Miltiades II was obviously a quick thinker as his trick over the Lemnians indicates (Hdt., 6.137-140). In spite of
Nepos’ grand sentiments, Miltiades II gained the tyranny of the Chersonese by a rather dirty trick, and one which
probably violated Greek concepts of hospitality. He maintained power with the help of a force of 500 mercenaries
(6.39).
31
References:
Adkins. 1972, A W H, Moral Values and Political Behaviour in Ancient Greece, Chatto &
Windus,
Andrewes, 1974, A, The Greek Tyrants, Hutchinsons University Library.
Billows, 2010, R A, Marathon, Overlook Duckworth.
Boardman, 1999, J R, The Greeks Overseas, 4ed., Thames & Hudson.
Bosworth 2003, A B “Demetrius (3) of Phaleron” in Hornblower, 2003b, p. 448b.
Camp, 1986, J, The Athenian Agora, Thames & Hudson.
Duff, 1953, J D, A Literary History of Rome: the Golden Age, Benn.
Duncan, 2009, G, “Women in the Shadow of Mt Vesuvius”, Doryanthes, 2(3), 2009, pp.
16-27.
Duncan, 2010, G, “Como and the Pliny Boys”, Doryanthes, 3(1), February, pp. 18-22.
Fornara, 1977, C, Archaic Times to the end of the Peloponnesian War, John Hopkins UP
(later pbk edition by CUP).
Forrest, 1966, W G, The Emergence of Greek Democracy, Weidenfeld & Nicolson.
French, 1971, A, The Athenian Half Century, Sydney UP.
French, 1987, Sixth Century Athens: the Sources, Sydney UP.
Fritz, , 1964, K von and E Kapp, Aristotle’s Constitution of Athens and Related Texts,
Hafner Publishing.
Geiger, 1985, J, Cornelius Nepos and Ancient Political Biography, Historia Einzelschriften
– Heft 47.
Green, 1970, P, ,Xerxes at Salamis, Praeger Publishing.
Grube, 1965, G M A, The Greek and Latin Critics, Methuen.
Higbie, 2007, C, “Aristocratic Families in Herodotus” in Strassler,, 2007, pp. 786-791.
Hignett, 1952, C, A History of the Athenian Constitution to the End of the Fifth Century,
OUP.
Hornbloqwer, 2002, The Greek World, 479-323 BC, Routledge.
Hornblower, 2003a, S, “cleruchy”, in Hornblower, 2003b, pp. 347b-348a.
Hornblower, 2003b, S, and A J S Spawforth, edd., The Oxford Classical Dictionary, 3ed.,
OUP.
Horsfall. 1989, N, Cornelius Nepos, OUP.
Jeffrey, 1976, L H, Archaic Greece: the City States c.700-500 B.C., Methuen.
Krentz, 2010, P, The Battle of Marathon, Yale UP.
Lazenby, 1993, J F, The Defence of Greece, 490-479 BC, Aris & Phillips.
Lazenb y, 1996, J F, “siegecraft, Greek”, in Hornblower, 1966, pp. 1405a-b.
Liddell, 1964, H G, ed., An Intermediate Greek-English Lexicon, OUP, reprint of 1889
edition.
Nipperdey, 1879, K, Cornelius Nepos, Weidemann (Berlin).
Osborne, 1996, R, Greece in the Making, 1200-479 BC, Routledge.
Rolfe. 1929, J C, Cornelius Nepos: on Great Generals; on Great Historians, Loeb Classical
Library.
Sekunda, 2002, N, Marathon, 490 BC, Osprey Publishing.
Sherman, Jr. 1973, W K., Deeds of Famous Men, Oklahoma UP.
Spawforth, 2003. A J S, “Aurelius Victor, Sextus”, in Hornblower, 2003b, p. 222b.
Strassler, 2007, R B, ed., The Landmark Herodotus, Pantheon Books.
Usher, 1988, S, Herodotus: the Persian Wars, Bristol Classical Press.
Webster, 1985, G, The Roman Imperial Army, A & C Black.
Winstedt, 1904, O, Cornelius Nepos: Vitae, Oxford Classical Texts.
32
A Marathon Effort.
An Australian at the first Modern Olympics
Merle Kavanagh
Towards the end of the 19th century sport was becoming more popular, being encouraged
in educational institutions and practiced in the wider community. This created interest in
the revival of the Olympic Games particularly in Greece. The man whose enthusiasm
brought action on this front was a Frenchman, Baron Pierre de Coubertin, who had been
excited earlier by the archeological findings in Greece. As General Secretary of the Union
of French Societies of Athletic Sports in June 1894, he organised a Congress in Paris at
the Sorbonne. On the agenda he had listed ‘the possibility of reviving the Olympic
Games” and had advocated the establishment of an international Olympic committee to
organise the first Modern Olympics, hopefully in Paris. However, the new committee
arranged the first games to be held in Greece, though not in Olympia which was isolated
and in need of rebuilding. At their first meeting in Paris in June 1894, this honour was
awarded to Athens.
Greece was fortunate that a
wealthy architect from
Alexandria, George Avroff,
gave one million drachma,
enabling them to build a
white marble stadium for
60,000 people. The
Panathinaiko Stadium, built
in 330 B.C. was
reconstructed and some
events were held there,
including the Opening and
Closing ceremonies. King
George 1 of Greece opened
the first Modern Olympic
Games at the foot of the
Acropolis on 5 April 1896
and for the next ten days
Panathinaiko Stadium in 1896
about 175 athletes from 14
nations competed, spurred
on by the enthusiasm of mostly Greek spectators. These countries were Australia,
Denmark, Hungary, Austria, France, Switzerland, Bulgaria, Great Britain, Sweden, Chile,
Germany and the United States of America. The inclusion of Australia in this list did not
occur until many years later and this tale will reveal the reason.
There were no national teams, as such, though several countries had sponsored groups.
Australia was still five years away from Federation of the States and no representatives
were sent on the long journey to Greece. However a young man, raised in Australia, won
honours there. His story is inspiring and curious.
Edwin Harold Flack was born in Islington, East London on 5 November 1873. His family
migrated to Australia before he was 5 years old, so he was schooled in his new country,
attending Melbourne Grammar School from 1886–1892. He was a good student and keen
33
on sport, competing in inter-club athletic events in Melbourne in the 1890s. As a
foundation member and first secretary of the Melbourne Hare and Hounds Athletic Club
he won several events including the Australasian Championship in November 1893 in 4m.
44 and the Victorian and half mile titles on the same afternoon in December 1894.
Various distance titles were credited to him in club events at that time, the longest being 7
miles.
In 1892 Edwin joined his father, Joseph, in his accountancy partnership, Davey, Flack and
Co. and to further his accountancy studies he was sent to England for additional training.
There he joined Price Waterhouse in London, this arrangement being made by his father
who had been an employee there. Edwin wasted no time in joining three athletic clubs—
London Athletic Club, Hampton Court Hare and Hounds and Thames Hare and Hounds
clubs. In 1895 Edwin won the Thames Hare and Hounds Challenge Cup over 4.75 miles
and also won three of 8 other races for that club.
With the Modern Olympics preparations underway at that time, Edwin was keeping his
options open, as either a spectator or competitor, by saving up leave from his
employment. He had been told that his father was agreeable to his plans, provided he did
not spend over £30 ($60). So when his leave was approved he booked the train and ship,
departing in late March and arriving in Athens six days later on 1 st April 1896, five days
before the Games were due to start. He suffered from seasickness on the voyage and
was not fully fit on arrival. The London Athletic Club had nominated him for the Games
and he lodged and competed with other British athletes. One of these was George
Robertson (later Sir George Robertson, Q.C.) who finished 4 th in Shot Put and 5 th in
Discus. They ate at a nearby hotel and various restaurants as an Olympic Village for
competitors in 1896 had not been part of the planning. These were the first Modern
Olympics—the previous Games had ceased over1500 years ago.
There were about 175 athletes, representing 13 countries, with the majority from Greece.
The Opening Ceremony on Easter Monday 6 th April 1896 drew a crowd of 80,000 and
Edwin was concerned that these people had to pay to watch this. He thought everyone
should be able to attend this ceremony without charge. Edwin wore his Melbourne
Grammar School sports uniform for all his events, the first being a heat of the 800 metres
which he won in 2m.10 on the opening day.
On day two he beat the favourite, American Arthur Blake (Burke in some records), in the
1500 m. with a time of 4m.33.2. Edwin wrote in his diary “I made the pace all the way with
Yankee Blake … I felt he was falling back and that I had him beat, finished up strong and
fresh but he was quite done up”. He was obviously very pleased with his first medal,
especially as it was the first win by a non-American in any track and field event at the
Games. The Union Jack was raised and the British anthem ‘God Save the Queen’ was
played. Edwin competed as part of the British group.
Day three was a change of venue for Edwin as he joined his friend, George, in the Lawn
Tennis Competition at the Temple of Olympeion using a borrowed racquet. They lost to a
Greek pair who eventually lost the final. The final of the 800 metres was also held that day
and Edwin won in 2m.11.5. Once again the British flag and anthem celebrated Edwin’s
win. He was described as “The Incomparable runner”.
On day four Edwin, flushed with success, determined to try for a third win. Despite not
having previously competed over 10 miles (16 km.), he entered the first Marathon of the
Modern Olympics. There were 25 runners, mostly Greeks, with 4 former placegetters—
34
Edwin Flack, Arthur Blake, a Frenchman Lermusiaux and Hungarian, Kellner. Of course
the Greeks were hoping for one of their countrymen to win this prestigious but exhausting
event. George Averoff, the wealthy benefactor, had even offered the hand of his daughter
in marriage to any Greek competitor who won the race.
At 2 p.m. in the heat of the day, the race began. The Frenchman led the pack and at the
10 km. mark Edwin was running second. By the 30 km. mark he led the runners, but at the
34 km. mark he was passed and collapsed at 37 km. It was a valiant effort for a man who
had already raced and won two events in the previous three days. The Marathon was
won by the Greek, Spiridon Louis who was showered with jewellery and flowers as he
raced to the finish. The Greek spectators went wild!
Edwin, meantime, had been taken by carriage back to the Stadium where he was visited
by Prince Nicholas of Greece who ordered a brandy eggnog to help him recover. His
effort was the talk of the town. He wrote to his father “They tell me I have become the
‘Lion of Athens’. I could not go down the street without a small crowd of people following
me on all sides.”
He was awarded 2 silver medals and 2 crowns of olive branches for his 2 wins. Winners
received silver medals, and crowns of olive branches. Runners-up received bronze
medals and the crowns of laurel branches. No gold medals were issued. It was reported
in one newspaper that the Austrian flag was raised inadvertently for Edwin’s successes
but this appears to be without basis. His wins were acknowledged as British.
Edwin left Athens on 18th April, three days after the closing ceremony of the ten-day
Olympics, receiving a farewell “befitting Alexander the Great”. It would be forty years
(1936) before his Olympic achievements were finally credited to Australia.
He apparently did not compete on his return to Australia, but became a keen golfer. The
family business of which he was part, Flack and Flack, was a well-respected accountancy
firm and was later absorbed by Price Waterhouse and Co.
He later joined the Australian Olympic Committee and became part of the first Australian
delegation to attend an I.O.C. Congress. He was the founder and inaugural treasurer of
the Henley on Yarra Regatta.
Edwin Flack was inducted into the Australian Sports and Athletics Hall of Fame and
various streets, reserves, parks, events and poems have also honoured his name. When
the centenary of the Modern Olympics were celebrated he was featured on a 45c stamp.
A bronze statue of him was erected in High Street, Berwick, Vic. in 1998, noting “Our first
gold medallist is truly a bronze Aussie”. He died on 10 January 1935 and his ashes
interred in Berwick Cemetery and marked by a headstone.
References:
www.victoria.org.au/edwin%flack.htm
www.kiat.net/Olympics/history/01athens.hml
Fraser, Bryce, Macquarie Book of Events, 2nd impression, Macquarie Library, McMahon’s
Pt., 1984, p.598.
Barker, Anthony, When was that?, Chronology of Australia from 1788, John Ferguson Pty.
Ltd., Surry Hills, 1988, p.221.
35
The First Marathon Race
Garriock Duncan
In this issue, Merle Kavanagh has given us an
account of the marathon race, in the first modern
Olympic Games, held in Athens in 1894. The
modern games were, of course, a revival of the
ancient Olympics. While there were a number of
foot races, none came anywhere near the length
of the marathon.143 Edward Duyker in his review
of Billows, Marathon (2010), also in this issue,
mentions the marathon. Its invention in 1894 was
meant to emulate Philippides’ legendary run from
Marathon to Athens. An added bonus was that
since the Games were being held in Athens, the
race could actually start in Marathon and end in
Athens. 144
The only journey from Marathon to Athens, which
Herodotus records is Miltiades’ force marching the
majority of the Athenian force back to Athens to
oppose a Persian landing (6.116). 145 I n 1930, a
young Nicholas Hammond made the journey on
foot in about six hour. 146 Herodotus does, of
course, mention an epic run, but from Athens to
Sparta. This was the run of the herald and
professional long distance runner, Philippides
(6.105.1). 147 Though, as Herodotus’ account
makes clear, Philippides survived the run to and
from Sparta. The episode is not recorded by
Plutarch in his account of the battle; he only
mentions the march back to Athens (Aristides, 5).
However, at some time, an account of a run by an
individual from Marathon to Athens, immediately
after. the battle emerged. In an essay, written
some 600 years after the battle, Plutarch records a
fragment of the 4 th century BC historian,
Heracleides Ponticus (On the Glory of Athens,
347c):
143
See: www.perseus.tufts.edu/Olympics/running
R A Billows, Marathon, Overlook / Duckworty,2010, pp. 50-52.
145
The only event in the ancient Olympics, which bears any similarity to this march, was the race, of about
800m, in full hoplite armour.
146
B Petrakos, Marathon, Archaeological Society at Athens, 1996, p. 31.
147
On the episode, see: Billows, op. cit., pp. 41-42; P Krentz, The Battle of Marathon, Yale UP, 2010, pp.
108-110; S Usher, Herodotus: the Persian Wars, Bristol Classical Press, 1988, n. on Hdt., 6.105.1 (pp. 2122). R Strassler, The Landmark Herodotus, Pantheon Books, 2007, n. 6.105.1a (p. 468) records Nepos’
form, Ph(e)idippides (Miltiades, 4.3) as a variant
144
36
The news of the victory at Marathon was announced, as narrated by
Heracleides Ponticus, by Thersippus Erchieus. However, most historians say
that Eucles ran in panoply from the battle. As he reached the doors of the city’s
archons, all he could say was, “Hail! We are victorious”, and he immediately
passed away.
At some point, the various names provided by Plutarch dropped out and the the more
widely known name of Philippides was inserted. This form of the anecdote is to be found
in Lucian (A Slip of the Tongue when Greeting, 3):
It is said that Philippides was the first to run from Marathon to announce the
victory. He said to the archons, who were assembled and worried about the
outcome of the battle, “Joy, to you. We’ve won”. While telling the tidings he
died: his last breath expiring with, “Joy to you”.
Philippides apparently returned from Sparta in sufficient time to join his tribal regiment in
the Battle of Marathon. He survived and in recognition of his ability was given the task of
taking news of the victory back to Athens.. Unfortunately, he did not survive this run.
However, why go to this bother? Why not announce the victory by use of a pre-arranged
signal? We know from Herodotus it was quite feasible to send a message by shield
(6.115, 121.1, 123.1, 124.2). 148
That the story of the run from Marathon by Thersippus/Eucles/Philippides is not mentioned
by Herodotus almost certainly indicates that it is not historical. The story is probably a
highly emotive variant of the hoplite forced march, since the putative runner did the
distance in full armour. It is part of the mythologizing of Marathon, which occurred
particularly mid 4 th century BC, when Athens had to face the growing power of Macedonia.
The story of Marathon was
used by to illustrate that the
Marathonomachai would
have stood up to
Macedonia, with no thought
of appeasement, nor of
danger to themselves:
The Plateans, men of
Athens, were the only
Greek people who
came to your aid at
Marathon when Datis,
the Persian king’s
general, on leaving
Eretria, after he had
gained control over
The Modern Olympics In Athens
Euboea, disembarked
in the area with a large army and began pillaging it. And, to this day, the
picture in the Painted Portico displays a reminder of their courage; for each
man is painted rushing to give support as fast as he could, the ones with the
Boeotians hats (Demosthenes, against Neaera, 94). 149
Contemporary Athenians were no match for the Plataeans of old.
148
See: Billowa, op. cit., p. 228; Krentz, op. cit., pp. 161-163.
See: J R Ellis and R D Milns, The Spectre of Philip, Sydney UP, 1970, pp. vii-viii; S Hornblower, The
Greek World, 479-323 BC, 4ed., Routledge, 2011, pp. 284-285.
149
37
Scattered Seeds
Garriock Duncan
VISITING THE MARATHON BATTLEFIELD
I have visited Marathon (Marathonas, in Greek) twice. Most readers would
probably think once was enough, particularly if they had been there themselves.
The first time was in 1989, together with my wife and our two young children (one
aged 11 yrs; the other aged 9). We took the bus from Athens. The second time
was in April, 2003, as Greece was preparing for the Athens’ Olympics of 2004.
This time, we travelled by car, driven by our friend in Athens, Amalia (Emi) Louras..
My advice is to do your research. Guide books sometimes give little real
information (e.g. M Dubin, Greece: the Mainland, Dorling Kindersley, 2003, p. 145;
P Hellander, et all, Greece, The Lonely Planet, 2008, p. 157). In 1989, in my
naivety, I thought the bus would stop at the Athenian Memorial. It did eventually but
long after we had gotten off.. In fact, we didn’t even make Marathon, at first. Once
I saw a road sign, pointing to the Marathon Museum, we got off and walked down a
very quiet country road until we came to the museum (about 2 km from the
Athenian mound). However, it is not the Museum of the Battle of Marathon. It is,
actually, the local district museum. So back to my original advice—do your
research, first. The best place to look is in books on military history( e.g. N
Sekunda, Marathon 490 BC, Osprey, 2002, pp. 88-92). After we retraced our
steps, we caught a bus into Marathon before returning to Athens. We caught a brief
glimpse of the Athenian mound as the bus passed nearby. Visiting Marathon and
not seeing the Athenian Memorial surely is akin to visiting Athens and not seeing
the Acropolis. So, I had to return.
It is now impossible to
get any appreciation of
the landscape of 490 BC.
This part of Greece, like
Thermopylae to the
north, has an active
coastline and the plain of
Marathon (not obvious to
the casual visitor) is now
significantly larger than it
was in 490 BC. In 1851,
The Plain of Marathon from the south west
it was still possible to get
a feel for the battlefield as Creasy’s description makes clear (see reference in the
Editorial):
The plain of Marathon, which is about twenty-two miles distant from Athens, lies
along the bay of the same name on the north-eastern coast of Attica. The plain is
38
nearly in the form of a crescent, and about six miles in length. It is about two miles
broad in the centre, where the space between the mountains and the sea is the
greatest, but it narrows towards either extremity, the mountains coming close down
to the water at the horns of the bay. There is a valley trending from the middle of
the plain, and a ravine comes down to it to the southward. Elsewhere, it is closely
girt round on the land side by rugged limestone mountains, which are thickly
studded with pines, olive-trees and cedars, and overgrown with the myrtle, arbutus,
,and the other low odiferous shrubs that everywhere perfume the Attic air. The
level of the ground is now varied by the mound raised over those who fell in the
battle, but it was an unbroken plain when the Persians encamped on it. There are
marshes at each end, which are dry in spring and summer, and then offer no
obstruction to the horseman, but are commonly flooded with rain, and so rendered
impracticable for cavalry in the autumn, the time of the year at which the action took
place.
Creasy would no longer recognise Marathon. The marshes have been drained,
and agriculture, along the ubiquitous development of coastal areas has totally
transformed the area. Additionally, in 2003, Marathon seemed to be undergoing an
economic boom. The rather depressed farms on the road to the Museum in 1989
had been replaced by opulent looking stud farms. The humble village bakery, we
shopped at in 1989, was now a smart café, even a patisserie. Part of the reason
for this boom was pretty obvious. Marathon was being olympified. Not surprisingly,
the town was to be the starting point for the marathon race, the final event in the
2004 Athens Olympics, some eighteen months after our visit.
The upgrading of Marathon’s roads caused us some confusion but we eventually
made the Athenian Mound (Tymbos Marathonon). The mound is situated in an
open park—a paved pathway leads from the ticket box (it’s not free) to a path
surrounding the base of the mound. It is not as high as you would expect and has
apparently lost several metres in height since ancient times. The mound is fully
grassed and showed no signs of excavation. I had thought that a doorway might
39
have been inserted into the side of the mound but no. The only adornment was a
funeral stele, in classic 5th century style (for the mound, see: P Krentz, The Battle of
Marathon, Yale UP, 2010, pp. 122-129; B Petrakos, Marathon—Archaeological
Guide, The Archaeological Society at Athens, 1996, pp. 18-24).
Entry to the mound included entry
to the Marathon Museum. So,
that was our next stop. Having
been there in 1989, I knew the
location of the other mound,
ostensibly that of the Plataean
dead (traditionally numbered at
12). Obviously, this mound was
not nearly as ;large as the other.
It is probably only a couple of
metres high. In 1989, I stood on
its apex and took some photos in
Museum of Marathon
the direction of the distant coast.
Not so, in 2003. The area around
the mound is not well looked after and it was difficult to get a clear view. What was
clear was the metal door that has been let into the side of the mound providing
access to its interior. However, it was very
obvious that in both 1989 and 2003 not many
bothered to visit the Plataeans (on the mound,
see:Krentz, op. cit., pp. 129-130; Petrakos, op.
cit., 65-67).
The Museum will probably surprise most people,
since as I have said, it is the local archaeological
museum It does contain part of the trophy
monument erected to commemorate the victory
of 490 BC (see: Krentz, op. cit., pp. 130, 132).
Apart from local material (for a description of the
contents, see: C Mee & A Spawforth, Greece—
an Oxford Archaeological Guide, OUP, 2001, pp.
117-118; Petrakos, op. cit, pp. 119-182), the
museum contains a number of large pieces of
Egyptian provenance, including a statue of
Antinous, the favourite of the Emperor Hadrian
(Patrakos, op. cit., pp. 76-77). Antinous died in
Part of the Victory Column of
mysterious circumstances while visiting Egypt
490 BC
with Hadrian in about 130 AD and was later
deified (E Speller, Travelling with Hadrian, OUP, 2003, pp. 160-161). These
Egyptian pieces come from the estate of Herodes Atticus.
Herodes Atticus (or, to give his full name, Lucius Vibullius Hipparchus Tiberius
Claudius Atticus Herodes) was born in the Marathon area in 103 AD and died there
in 179 AD. Herodes inherited a vast fortune from his father and used it to finance
public works and buildings. If you do not visit the museum, the only link to this
40
generous benefactor would be the theatre, which bears his name, by the Propylaea
of the Acropolis, the Theatre of Herodes Atticus (not to be confused with the
Theatre of Dionysus, near Metro Akropoli).
To be honest, unless you are an history afficionado, there is not a great deal to see.
Day tripping Athenians probably visit the area to picnic at Lake Marathon. Emi was
very keen to show us the lake. It was the first place she had been taken to, when
as a new bride she arrived in Athens from Sydney with her former husband. Built in
1926, a curved wall of Pentelic marble holds back the waters of the Charadras and
Varnavas streams to form a man made lake. It is quite a pretty spot, with a heavily
wooded gully leading downstream from the dam wall. Up until 1956. Lake
Marathon was Athens’ only water supply.
Being a tourist can generate an appetite. Back in 1989, we had lunch in the Plaza
of Heroes (Marathon’s central square). We ate our sandwiches sitting on the curb
in the dirt and dust of Marathon, while we waited for the bus back to Athens.. Our
daily budget, then, was $AUD100 per day—all inclusive; accommodation, food,
fare, everything. Indicative of how our national wealth has increased, these days I
allocate $AUD200 to accommodation, alone. In 1989, our culinary treat was to buy
a hot loaf, though more like an 18 cm long scone, from the afore mentioned
bakery., We broke off chunks while it was still warm and ate them on the bus on the
way back to Athens.
Again the situation has changed. As we drove back through Marathon, we chanced
upon Taverna Ouzeri. We prevailed upon Emi to stop for lunch. Visible from the
street was the spit. A whole sheep was being spit roasted. The Greek for this
delicacy translates as screwed lamb. Let me tell you we certainly screwed that
sheep well. It was not so much lunch but rather a banquet. My diary for the day
lists six courses (sans dessert). The last course turned out to be a particular Greek
delicacy—lamb neck stuffed with offal and spit roasted. Actually as we walked into
the taverna I had noticed another spit with what I took to be joints of meat on it—
the stuffed lamb neck. The lamb neck was great—the jury is still out on the stuffing.
Dedicated gourmands would have noticed that dessert was missing—what no
baklava or galaktibouriko. Be calm—dessert was in hand.. On the way back to
Athens, Emi needed to call into her work at Elefsina. My keen eyed wife noticed a
branch of Papangallino’s (the Parrot). Dessert was secured. There are a number
of Papangallino’s outlets in Athens. When next visiting Athens, if you have a sweet
tooth, track one down. You won’t be disappointed. Once back in Athens, in spite of
the extravagant lunch, we still had to eat the feast Emi had already prepared for us.
Emi has since returned to Marathon and the Marathon Museum, in particular. This
time, she was showing her sister and brother-in-law the lories of Marathon.
41
Book Review
Reviewed by Edward Duyker,
Australian Catholic
University/University of Sydney.
Richard A. Billows, Marathon: How One Battle
Changed
Western
Civilization,
Overlook
Duckworth, New York/London, 2010, Hardback,
304 pages, including maps, illustrations,
chronology, glossary, bibliography and index,
ISBN 978-1-59020-168-8 US, ISBN 978-0-71563908-5 UK, US$30, CAN $37, UK £16.99,
distributed in Australia by Scribe.
The reader does not need to be a classicist or
deeply steeped in ancient history to enjoy this
engaging book. After an introductory discussion
of the legend of Marathon and its
historiography—including the writings of George
Grote (1794–1871), John Stuart Mill (1806–
1873) and Sir Edward Shepherd Creasy (1812–
1878)—Richard Billows, Professor of History at Columbia University, New York,
provides a multifaceted overview of the Greek world in the sixth and seventh
centuries BCE. He then surveys the rise of the vast Persian Empire and the
evolution of the Athenian city-state. The author then discusses the growing conflict
between the Persians and the Greeks, beginning with the conquest of Greek Ionian
cities in Asia Minor. Prof. Billows argues that it was not imperial expansion, for
expansion’s sake, but Darius I’s desire to secure his western provinces in the wake
of Ionian revolts which engendered Persian determination to conquer the Aegean
and the Greek mainland. Greece, of course, was not a united entity in the fifth
century BCE, although a decade later the renewed Persian threat presented by
Xerxes (son of Darius I), would eventually help forge an impressive alliance
between the individual Greek states.
Despite cultural and linguistic commonalities, there were major differences between
austere monarchical Sparta, where citizenship was the preserve of a rigorously
martial elite which ruled an agricultural serfdom of conquered ‘helots’ with an iron
fist, and Athens, a commercial maritime power, which, although a slave-owning
society, was characterised by democratic decision making and the assumption of
military responsibility by virtually all able-bodied men. Prof. Billows uses the
tensions between the Spartan hard-men of the Peloponnesus and the democrats of
Attica, as a canvas for exploring the legend of the Greek messenger Philippedes,
grounded in the writings of Plutarch and Lucian six centuries after the Battle of
Marathon. The run by Philippedes from Marathon to Athens, with the news of the
Athenian victory, provided the inspiration for the modern marathon run (established
at the 1896 Athens Olympics). But the historical sources also point to an earlier
450-kilometre run by Philippedes to Sparta, and back, to request help fending off
the Persian threat. Unfortunately, that help was not forthcoming. Lunar ritual
42
proscriptions lead the Spartans to delay, forcing the Athenian citizen army to take
on the might of the Persian Empire alone. Prof. Billows also sees the emblematic
ethos of the marathon in the victorious Athenian hoplites (heavy infantrymen)
running after victory on the Plain to Athens—each laden with some 30 kilograms of
body armour, weaponry and a bonze embossed shield—to defend their city from a
seaborne assault.
Marathon is an impressive work of insightful historical synthesis. Aside from the
seminal texts of Herodotus and other classical authors, the author has made use of
a vast array of other scholarly sources, both archaeological and historical.
Occasionally he uses modern analogies and his prose is imbued with a great deal
of wisdom and common sense when he analyses the evolution of military tactics
and weaponry, and scrutinises the purported numbers of opposing armies and
fleets. In building his story, Prof. Billows achieves a genuine dramatic conclusion
with the events of that crucial day in 490 BCE, beginning with the manner in which
the Athenian general Miltiades pressed for combat after the Persians had
embarked their cavalry for a seaborne assault on undefended Athens. Fearful his
army would haemorrhage men if it simply withdrew to defend the city from its
battlements, Miltiades saw a window of opportunity to attack the weakened
Persians while their cavalry was at sea rounding the Attic Peninsula. Although still
very much outnumbered, Miltiades deployed a deliberately widened hoplite phalanx
to reduce the risk of being outflanked. (Others have suggested that this was to
draw the Persians forward in order to encourage their encirclement; if so, the tactic
prefigured later Greek warfare, by a century.)
Over a kilometre wide, the left and right wings of the Greek phalanx still had the
usual eight lines of hoplites, but the centre was only four lines deep. To minimise
the time his army was exposed to Persian archers, a final running charge was
prearranged with heavy shields raised high to deflect the arrows. Despite the
enormous pressure put on the Greek centre, there was no Persian cavalry to
threaten the wings of the Greek army or its rear. But the two wings of the Greek
army were themselves able to outflank the Persians and turn inward. Ultimately,
despite their smaller number, the crushing momentum of the heavily armed Greeks,
with their long spears and impregnable shields, told against the Persians with their
flimsy body armour and their shields of wicker. Much of the Persian centre was
destroyed and the rest of the invading army fled to the beach to escape in their
remaining vessels. Some fleeing Persians drowned in the neighbouring swamps.
Others were killed on the beach and in the shallows as the Greeks pursued them to
the water and captured seven Persian ships. Greek sources boasted 6400 Persian
dead, for just 192 fallen Athenians. With the Persian infantry routed and the
Persian fleet still to round Cape Sounion, Miltiades had just enough time to run
overland with his victorious army and protect Athens. As a result, the Persian
cavalry never landed. The words of Sir Edward Shepherd Creasy, in The Fifteen
Decisive Battles of the World: From Marathon to Waterloo (1851), echo through
Billows’ book: http://onlinebooks.library.upenn.edu/webbin/gutbook/lookup?num=4061
‘The day of Marathon is the critical epoch in the history of the two nations.
It broke forever the spell of Persian invincibility, which had paralysed
men’s minds. It generated among the Greeks the spirit which beat back
43
Xerxes, and afterwards led on Xenophon, Agesilaus, and Alexander, in
terrible retaliation through their Asiatic campaigns. It secured for mankind
the intellectual treasures of Athens, the growth of free institutions, the
liberal enlightenment of the Western World, and the gradual ascendancy
of many ages of the great principles of European civilisation.’
Hypothetical history is always difficult territory. Richard Billows suggests that if the
Athenians had been defeated, they would have been deported to other parts of the
Persian Empire as happened to the inhabitants of other city states conquered by
the Persians, such as those of Barka, in Cyrenaica, circa 510 BCE, those of Miletos
in 494 BCE and the Eretrians shortly before Marathon. He argues cogently that the
great flowering of classical Greek art, architecture, mathematics, philosophy and
literature would not have occurred. And he suggests that democracy might have
been seen as a failed experiment. Democracy, of course, evolved independently in
other societies beside ancient Athens. There are clear examples in Ancient India
and in many tribal societies around the globe. Mediaeval Iceland, Venice and
Switzerland also offer striking contrasts to European feudalism. And British liberal
democracy and the democratic revolutions in America and France were not
contingent on the Athenian experiment—despite the surfacing of classical symbols
and references, such as the Phyrigian cap (the symbol of manumitted Roman
slaves) adopted by the Jacobin sans culottes. Furthermore, the cultural evolution
of the Persian Empire might have been radically altered and enriched by its
absorption of the Greeks, just as the Roman Empire later was–admittedly after their
full flowering. Perhaps western civilisation was indeed ‘saved’ at Marathon, as
Prof. Billows argues and as Edward Shepherd Creasy argued before him, but to my
mind it is ironic that much of the splendour of Greek literature, philosophy, science
and mathematics, was lost after the fall of Rome only to be reintroduced to
Christian Europe, hundreds of years, later thanks to Muslim Arab and (let us not
forget) Persian scholars, who had preserved it in translation!
Marathon is an easy read, with a useful bibliography and discussion of further
reading. Prof. Billows, who has used his own translations from Greek texts, has
chosen to revert to a number of indisputably more accurate, yet unfamiliar, phonetic
versions of Greek names, such as Perikles instead of Pericles and Aischylos
instead of Aeschylus. Despite warning his readers of his lack of consistency, I was
personally glad that Herodotus had not been rendered ‘Irodotus’ and Athens not
‘Athenai’. Despite the didactic benefits of linguistic accuracy, communication is all
too important and, unfortunately, I suspect that there will be a few readers who will
not realise that Prof. Billows is referring to Aeschylus when he writes ‘Aischylos’,
even though he lists the great tragedian’s plays early in the book. Learning and
knowledge involve a good measure of making connections. I remember the delight
I felt when I first learned that Aeschyllus was present on the field of Marathon and
that the dramatist chose to commemorate this fact on his own epitaph. And I
remember how my curiosity was sparked when I learned that my great-greatgrandfather’s middle name ‘Darius’!
44
Film review
Michael Cooke
A Clash of Civilisations:
A review of: The 300 Spartans and 300.
Oh Stranger, tell the Spartans that we lie here obedient to their word.
150
Well okay, then let’s finally talk about the enemy. Somebody, for some reason, nobody seems to be talking
about who we’re up against and the sixth century barbarism they actually represent. These people saw
people’s heads off. They enslave women. They genitally mutilate their daughters. They do not behave by
any cultural norms that are sensible to us. I’m speaking into a microphone that never would have been the
product of their culture. And I’m living in a city where 3,000 of my neighbours were killed by thieves of
airplanes they never could have built.
151
Frank Miller
150
Part of the opening narration in the 1962 film The Three Hundred Spartans. (Editor’s Note: This is the
famous epitaph for the Spartans at Thermopylae by Simonides of Ceos [see: P J Parsons, “Simonides of
Ceos”, in S Hornblower, et al., edd., The Oxford Classical Dictionary. 3ed, OUP, 1996, q.v., p. 1409a-b].
While Simonides wrote an epitaph for all the Greeks, who died at Thermopylae [Herodotus, 7.2228.1], this
couplet was in honour of the Spartans, alone [Hdt., 7.228.2]. There are alternative renditions, eg. Simonides,
fr. 212 [T F Higham, et al., edd., The Oxford Book of Greek Verse in Translation, OUP, 1996, p. 237] and
Simonides, fr. 9 [ R Lattimore, Greek Lyrics, Chicago UP, 1960, p. 56]. The Greek text is conveniently found
in Campbell [D A Campbell, Greek Lyric Poetry: a Selection, MacMillan, 1967] , fr. 92D [p. 98], with
commentary [pp. 399-400].). Simonides is traditionally regarded as the writer of another epigram, honouring
those who fought at Marathon: The Athenians, front-fighters of the Greeks at Marathon / destroyed the
power of the gold-bearing Medes [R A Billows, Marathon, Overlook/Duckworth, 2010, p. 34]).
45
According to some, the 21st century is characterised by a clash of civilisations, notably the
‘war’ between Islam (medieval, Eastern and anti-democratic) and Christianity (Western,
modern and progressive). 152 But this view is by no means new in western historical
discourse. One of the earliest incarnations was the Ancient Greeks portrayal of their wars
with the Persian Empire (Achaemenid Empire)153. Historians like Herodotus and the
playwright Aeschylus who had fought at Marathon portrayed the Greeks as freemen and
bearers of civilisation, while the Achaemenid Empire was seen as barbaric and despotic.
This legacy was very much in the minds of makers of the 1962 film: The 300 Spartans.
The film came at the tail-end of a long and fruitful period of epic historical films.
Filmmakers took stories, heroes and famous battles from the past which were in accord
with the political sensibilities of their own day. El Cid (1961), which gave a romantic sheen
to the bloody destruction of Moorish Spain and the ascendency of Catholic Castile, was
filmed in Franco’s Spain. The never-ending Ten Commandments 1958 (220 minutes),
which reinforced Judeo-Christian values and the idea of the Jews being given Israel by
Yahweh, was released in the year of the Suez Crisis.
The clash of civilisations is heralded at the start of The 300 Spartans when the
Achaemenid Empire is portrayed as a ‘slave civilisation against the freedom-loving
fractious Greeks’. This narration is intoned whilst we see the shrine commemorating the
battle. Greek ideals are personified by Themistocles of Athens, beautifully and slyly played
by Ralph Richardson. Leonidas, a hereditary king of Sparta, promises the support of
Sparta in the coming conflict. Unable to gather the bulk of the Spartan army because of a
religious festival, Leonidas takes his bodyguard of three hundred men to the pass at
Thermopylae to meet their collective destiny. 154
The film is an epic in the true sense of the word. It remains faithful to the lineaments of the
story and authentically replicates the ancient paraphernalia of war. In the huge set-piece
battles thousands of Greek soldiers were brought in to play the Achaemenidian army.155
The film was made in Greece on terrain similar to that on which the battles took place, and
was exquisitely shot by Geoffrey Unsworth in cinemascope, giving the audience a
panoramic view of the massed armies.
David Farrar is excellent as the Emperor Xerxes, conveying not only his physical presence
but also the hubris of a man who sees himself as infallible and is seen as such by others.
Unfortunately the juvenile leads have saccharine lines which are not improved by their
151
Frank Miller, creator of the comic book 300, on which the film 300 was based, speaking to Neal Conan,
host of Talk of the Nation, an American National Public Radio program broadcast on 24 January 2007.
152
The modern incarnation of this was given ideological wings by Samuel P. Huntington. See Said, Edward
W. ( 2000), ‘The clash of definitions’ in Reflections on Exile and other literary and cultural essays, Granta
Books, pp. 569-590, where he lucidly explains the argument and then demolishes it.
153
The Achaemenid Empire existed from 550 BC to 330BC. At its height it stretched from the Indus Valley in
the east to Thrace and Macedonia in North Eastern Greece and eventually encompassed Egypt. It was
eventually brought down by Alexander of Macedon.
154
There were not just 300 Spartans meeting the Persians. There was a force of around 5,000 which
included 900 Spartan helots (slaves) and the rest made up by soldiers from across the Peloponnese. The
Persian army according to modern estimates varied from 70,000 to 300,000.
155
Given the film’s espousal of democracy it is ironic that a few years later Greece was subjected to a coup
d’état, the beginning of a military regime which lasted from 1967 to 1974 with the connivance of King
Constantine, whom the film thanked for his support.
46
wooden acting, a problem accentuated by Richard Egan’s portrayal of Leonidas as a
superannuated gridiron star.
The film is partially redeemed by its depiction of the clash between the armies. Hundreds
of chariots thunder towards the Spartans; the Immortals march in endless columns like
robots. The Spartans meet these insurmountable odds heroically, but in the end are
betrayed and die in a hail of arrows. The battle sequences are excellent as tableaux, but
weak in the depiction of the actual fighting. There are few scenes of individual combat, and
even when Leonidas is killed we get no idea how it happened. Nevertheless it is still a
good film and can be seen as a classic of its genre.
The director is Rudolph Maté, who began as a fine cinematographer in Hungarian films in
the 1920s and emigrated to Hollywood in the 1930s, where he made his name as a
director of film noir in the 1940s 156. The Three Hundred Spartans was released in the year
of the Cuban Missile crisis, and many critics saw it as a parable of the Cold War, the West
being equated with the Greeks and the Soviet Union with the Achaemenid Empire. Given
that the world had only recently come out of the Second World War and into the threat of
nuclear Armageddon, a certain restraint is noticeable in the depiction of the clash of
civilisations. The makers were well aware of the consequences of unlimited war that had
turned Europe and parts of Asia into a charnel house, and of the need to come to some
sort of détente with one’s enemies and economic competitors.
History marched on, with changes in technology and economic and political theory.
Eastern Europe emerged from the shackles of the Soviet Union, which disintegrated in the
1990s, leaving the world with a single superpower. Capitalism dominated and state
enterprises were deregulated or privatised around the globe. Citizens become consumers,
and the rich and vacuous were invested with a glory that in the past was reserved for world
leaders and the talented. Then came the 11th of September 2001, we now had an enemy
to replace the Soviet Union and the clash of civilisation came once more to the fore.
At the same time the epic became profitable again, helped by computer generated
imagery (CGI). Mel Gibson made his fine (though overwrought) film Braveheart (1995),
with its echoes of Kubrick’s Spartacus (1960). Ridley Scott’s near masterpiece Gladiator
(2000) combined the civilised elegy of Mann’s Fall of the Roman Empire (1964) with the
latest in CGI.
Zack Synder’s 300 (2006) was based in style and content on Frank Miller’s graphic novel
(i.e. comic) 300.157 Miller’s inspiration came from seeing The 300 Spartans as a young
child and being moved by it. In this version the clear azure skies have gone, along with the
wonderful barren Grecian landscape. In its place is a world denuded of colour: landscape
as nightmare. The rituals and the world of ancient Sparta are distorted accordingly. There
are gigantic wolves and even mammoths. Most of the action was shot in a studio, with
computer imagery added later. The only brightness is the red of the slaughter and the
Spartan cloaks.
156
Rudolf Maté (Matheh) (1898-1964) was the principal cinematographer of Le passion de Jeanne d’ Arc
(1928), Stella Dallas (1937) and Gilda (1947). He graduated to director in the late 1940s and directed classic
films like DOA (1950), Union Station (1951), The Violent Men (1951) and The Dark Past (1950). By the time
he directed the 300 Spartans his creative fire had dimmed.
157
The film is a medley of styles and influences. In the battle sequences one can see echoes of Peter
Jackson’s Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers (2002). In the depiction of nature, the style of the film is
reminiscent of the paintings of the Romantic artist Casper David Friedrich and of Goya’s black paintings.
47
The Spartans fight bare-bodied and with glistening muscles; their beauty is brutal, they
grunt, grimace or roar, and live to kill. When they die in a sea of arrows there is no sense
of grace or tragedy that the filmmakers presumably want to convey. 158
The clash of civilisations is established early in the film. Emissaries from Xerxes ride into
Leonidas’ palace, black and dressed in Arabian robes. They ask for the submission of the
Spartans and Leonidas has them killed. Leonidas and his 300 march to Thermopylae, the
sky darkens and their red cloaks gleam in the gloom. The Persians are depicted as effete
or ugly, monsters or rabble: they are a slave army of Africans, Persians and Chinese.
Xerxes is a giant whose face is festooned with chains and who is carried in a monstrous
chariot.
300’s world brings male adolescent fantasy to life: a bare-breasted temple maiden, an
ogre with a giant hammer, an enemy numbered in the tens of thousands; immortals with
black masks that make them look like devils, a horde of elephants and even a rhinoceros.
The Spartans stoutly beat off all their foes, but are betrayed by one of their own who
should have been destroyed at birth because of his physical deformity. He turns traitor
only when Leonidas rejects him because of a deformity which prevents his holding a shield
to the right height in a phalanx. He is exaggeratedly grotesque, and the film implicitly
justifies the eugenic practices of the Spartans. The battle sequences themselves are
spectacular and violent. The Spartans efficiently thrust, swivel and leap, slicing the Asiatic
hordes attempting to engulf them.
The film’s historical distortions and glamorised racism did not prevent its being embraced
by a large proportion of the cinema-going public. But admiration for the achievements of
Ancient Greece, including Sparta, should not blind us to its darker side. Sparta itself was a
highly militarised and oligarchical society. It allowed (unlike Athens) considerable freedom
to women, but in terms derived from the ideal of the warrior, 159 and the tone of Spartan
society was set not by the subtle, questing intellect but by the sword. Athens was the glory
of ancient Greece, but the existence of the Greek social order everywhere was vitally
dependent on slavery and even among the free, the franchise was limited. The Greek
world was not alone in the Mediterranean region in complexity and sophistication, as
witnessed by the Phoenicians and the Carthaginians. The Achaemenid Empire could be
brutal and despotic, but the Greeks were sometimes no better, and Persian culture
produced brilliant architecture, sculpture and prose.
Watching these films reminds me again that when we look at the past we should not
expect to find replicas of our own ideals. Ancient Greece had, for all its towering
achievements, many practices and beliefs that are alien to us. Nor need we see cultural
and political differences as a ‘clash’ between us and the other, but rather as an opportunity
for communication and exchange. Civilisations have always borrowed from each other,
with or without acknowledgement. Greek thought and life met the East, were influenced
accordingly and left their mark in turn. To know yourself should also be to know the other.
Such is life
158
The Antipodean connection in the film is embarrassing. David Wenham, a fine actor, is the narrator and
the only survivor. His lithe frame has been filled out with muscles but his voice retains an unimpressive nasal
twang which is unsuitable for the pseudo profundity of the lines he has to enunciate.
159
It was thought normal in Sparta that girls and young women should engage in the same strenuous
physical exercise as boys.
48
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subsequent publication, the editors of Doryanthes merely seek a statement of the p rior
publication in Doryanthes.
Contributions (articles, notes or reviews) may be sent to the publisher on disk or as email
attachment (in both cases as Word files ) to the publisher Les Bursill (les.bursill.gmail.com).
Membership
Doryanthes Inc. has two classes of membership:
(i) Subscription Members. The Doryanthes year runs from November till October. The
annual subscription is $35 per year. In addition to the online version, subscription
members are entitled to receive, per year, four hard copy editions of Doryanthes.
Subscriptions should be forwarded to the Hon. Treasurer Mrs Mary Jacobs
10 Porter Road
Engadine 2233
(ii) On-line Members: On-line members pay no annual subscription fee and receive four
times per year the on-line copy of Doryanthes. Such members must provide the publisher,
Les Bursill ([email protected]) with a current email address.
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